


Accepting Help (is hard)

by AngeNoir



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Demons, Human Trafficking, M/M, Mediums, Scion Hanzo Shimada, powers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 08:56:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: Jesse McCree had only just rejoined Overwatch when a strange communication came from Japan. An old agreement, one between the Shimada clan and Blackwatch, is suddenly called upon, and after some deliberation, Winston, Angela, and Jesse agree that Jesse will check it out - where Jesse finds himself thrust into the middle of a power struggle in the Shimada clan. He knows he's just supposed to be looking for the human traffickers, but he can't just sit by idly while people try to kill the brother of his old friend.And if the brother's hot, well. That didn't really factor into it.(That much.)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Accepting Help (is hard)](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/409569) by Spadejo9. 



_ <<I do not like this.>> _

_ <<Our master's sire trusted them.>> _

_ <<Our master's sire died.>> _

_ <<Our master gave them our brother.>> _

_ <<They lost our brother.>> _

_ <<We have no other recourse.>> _

Silence.

Then—

_ <<We have no say, in any case. We have to hope our master has made the best choice.>> _

_ <<He had no other choice to make. Not without losing his own life. At the least, he conceded to this small action.>> _

_ <<At the least. His pride may yet ruin us.>> _

Fondness. Amusement. Gentle brush of whiskers against snout. _ <<His pride is what attracted you to his summons in the beginning, was it not?>> _

A humph, and then blinking out of existence, the disappearance chased with soft chuckles.


	2. Introducing Jesse McCree

Jesse McCree hadn’t been one of the first to answer the Recall. To be quite honest, he had seriously considered not answering it at all – but after Winston’s message (which he had received on his Blackwatch communicator, and so hadn’t been seen until weeks after the initial message, since he had not been near his bunker or supply cache), he had received a message from Lena, and then nearly hours after that, a message from ‘Reeha.

“You’re coming back, right?” Lena’s crackling message asked, cutting back and forth as the UK reception wavered. “Oh, I hope you are! I have so much to talk to you about! Ten  _ years _ , Jesse, ten years! I had a dust-up with that sniper, you know the one I’m talking about, and it’s never been good in the UK since that Null business, but we’re surviving. Emiily’s got the cutest, tiny shop with some beautiful items, and I love helping her out – get in contact with me, you ol’ rascal! Let me know if you’ll be joining!”

The next message on his communicator was from a face he hadn’t expected to see in a long, long time. Hell, he hadn’t even thought she’d care whether he came back or not.

“Jesse? Winston told me he contacted you at this comm… I would have thought you’d have thrown this out. You  _ left _ , you bastard… But that’s not why I called. I’m hoping you come back. I’ve missed you, you ridiculous caricature of a cowboy. If you still have this comm unit, contact me back. My address is foxtrot-delta-oh-five-oh-foxtrot-echo-two-echo-echo-foxtrot-four-echo-seven-oh-charlie. I expect a call back shortly.” The words were clipped, snapped out like someone giving orders (she was), and the tone was arrogant and even patronizing (which meshed with what he remembered of her perfectly).

That was ‘Reeha for you.

In any case, he hadn’t been the first to come back. Hell, he hadn’t even been in the second wave of the old guard (and the few new faces). He returned to the only Watchpoint that was still standing, central in location, and in good condition, Gibraltar, and it was to see that somehow Winston had finagled getting Dr. Ziegler back, along with Lena. He’d convinced that old troll, Torbjorn, and that terrifying crusader Reinhardt as well. ‘Reeha had talked her company into giving her a leave of absence, apparently – either that, or she was freelancing, and Jesse wasn’t sure which one was worse.

(She’d come around the corner at full speed, slamming a punch into his gut and doubling him over. Gasping for air, he clutched at her elbow, his hat nearly falling off his head as he bowed it, diaphragm working to try and suck more air into his lungs, and then she was yanking him up, clutching him to her chest, hugging him tightly with those monster arms of hers. Gave a man a complex, she did, especially since his gut wasn’t as flat as it used to be as a twenty-something idiot in Blackwatch.)

So. He was there for when Winston called him into the conference room, data all up on holoscreens around the room, Dr. Ziegler standing there looking worried.

“Got somethin’ for me?” Jesse asked staring up at the lines of data scrolling, his eyes picking out a name he never thought he’d see again -  _ Shimada _ . “I ain’t famiilar with where Genji made off to. Thought he was runnin’ around the Himalayas or somethin’.”

“You were in Blackwatch,” Winston began, looking embarrassed.

Raising one eyebrow elegantly, Jesse shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “We statin’ the obvious today? Yer a giant talkin’ monkey.”

“No - I mean, well, no, I’m an ape, but yes, that’s obvious. What I mean is, you were Reyes’s 2iC. You were aware of the deal Blackwatch and the Shimada-gumi had, correct?”

Jesse gnawed on his lip a little, eyes darting from one screen to the next.

_ -Callin’ me up, vaquerito?- _

Jesse pushed the demon’s voice away, and cleared his throat. “If’n I remember correctly, yeah, I remember the details of it. The ol’ man, Sojiro, had hammered out a truce with Blackwatch, was willin’ to report on black market deals and shit that the other gumi would do. It was… a mutually beneficial relationship, in a manner of speaking. Ol’ Shimada knew Blackwatch was a haven for us… less savory types, the kinda creatures Overwatch didn’t put on those nice lookin’ posters an’ in those holovids.”

Jesse’s demon slithered in the back of his mind, like smoke, curling along the nape of his neck, but Jesse continued as quickly as he could to keep his demon content. “Anyway, the ol’ guy kicked it before the terms could be finalized, but his eldest took two more years, finalized all the wording and shit… an’ then a year later we got Genji. You remember him.”

Winston’s face soured, even as Dr. Ziegler’s face softened.

“All o’ that, though, you coulda pulled up from Blackwatch encrypted files. You have the ability, you might even have Reyes’s encryption key. So, the question is, got somethin’ from me?”

“We got a … strangely worded tip, through an encrypted channel. Athena traced it back to a small place called Hanamura, in Japan, currently under control of the Shimada clan,” Dr. Ziegler said, tapping her fingers against the nearest holoscreen and opening up a picture of the current Shimada-gumi.

Jesse studied the picture. A forbidding man, hair spiked and pointed up - a lot of hair gel, not that Jesse had room to speak, considering the messy state of his head - eyes piercing and almost challenging. It was clear that the picture was supposed to be candid, that the photographer was trying to sneak that picture, from the way that the man was ducking into a limo, the branches of trees in the way trying to obscure the view, the black-suited security personnel surrounding the area, and yet…

His eyes were looking directly into the camera lens.

It sent something up the back of Jesse’s spine, and this time he couldn’t stop the chill of the demon, curling up his spine and peeking over his shoulder at the picture - he was almost scared that the demon had physically manifested, in front of Winston and a freaking  _ cleric _ . Swallowing hard, he studied the few features he could make out.

_ -This one is  _ interesting _ , hermanito. Are we hunting him?- _

_ We’re hunting something, _ Jesse sighed, rocking again on his feet.

“Should we follow up with this information? We technically are not reformed, not really. There is no real consequences should we not hold up this agreement that was made, easily, nine or ten years ago. It may not even be true, or accurate,” Dr. Ziegler offered.

She was right, Jesse had to concede. There was no real Overwatch, let alone Blackwatch, to answer the call.

Still, it sat bad in his chest.

“I’ll mosey on over,” he finally said, letting the words drawl from his throat almost before he realized he had made a decision. “See what’s goin’ on. There’s got to be a reason for them reachin’ out. Somethin’ must be up.”

“If you’re sure,” Winston said, hesitating. “We know that they have a criminal empire, and in all fairness Overwatch, and Blackwatch in particular, has been disbanded. We could ignore the message.”

Without really thinking, Jesse instinctively shook his head in denial. “No, we shouldn’t ignore it. Hell, we gave our word, and with Genji in the wind, th’ least I can do is offer what help I can.”

“We know Genji is intending to answer the recall - ” Winston began, voice trailing off. Then he sighed. “I don’t know the specifics of the deal between Blackwatch and the Shimada-gumi. I will check in with Genji, see if he knows why the Shimada-gumi might be contacting us at this particular moment, and pass along your communicator address. If you’re set on doing this, the least we can do is fly you there and set you up with accomodations.”

“I’ll set everythin’ up,” Jesse interjected. “For all we know, we won’t wanna be close to whatever shit is going down with the gang. I’ll figure out everythin’ if’n you give me the funds to figure things out.”

Winston and Angela shared a glance, and then Winston sighed. “Of course, you are right. Alright, let me juggle some funds and provide you with some petty cash. Locate Ms. Oxton, if you would, and make sure she’s free to fly you over to Sapporo Airport.”

***

Hanamura turned out to be set in the Donan area of the Hokkaido island, in northernmost Japan. Basic research revealed that the Shimada-gumi had been in place long before the local government, and had managed to thrive through all the iterations of Japanese governance. It had a  _ very _ shady history, but once the late Shimada Sojiro had paired with Blackwatch, the dirtier aspects of the Shimada-gumi had disappeared - at least, to the degree that Jesse knew. The trafficking, the drug running, both of those completely stopped. There was still the protection racket, the controlling of all imports and exports, weapons sales and dealings - a lot of shady shit, to be sure. Once Shimada Sojiro had passed (there was suspected foul play, though nothing had been proved), the elder Shimada son had kept to the truce his father had begun laying out with Blackwatch - no more trafficking and no more drugs.

The younger Shimada son, however, had had nothing to do with any of the clan’s dealings. He couldn’t have, after all - part of the truce, for reasons either unexplained or known only to Reyes and Sojiro, had been to take in Genji, and Genji had resented that deeply. He had hated it, had been a deeply troubled and angry young man, and honestly, the first two years Genji had been in Blackwatch Jesse was sure he would goad other Blackwatch agents into killing him. It had taken Genji those two years to warm up to Jesse and Reyes, let alone anyone else.

Reyes had taken Genji under his wing, not really sending him out on any of the missions Blackwatch carried out in the five years Genji had been with them, training with Reyes. The few missions he’d been out on, Reyes had been on them as well, personally overseeing them, and Jesse had a suspicion that Genji had seen Reyes as a kind of substitute father - almost in the same way Jesse had seen Reyes, though without as much loyalty and devotion, considering that Genji was much older when he came to Reyes than Jesse had been.

Simply by virtue of the fact that Jesse and Genji were ‘adopted sons’ of Reyes, they had been stuck together a lot, which meant there was a lot of stupid shit they did and a lot of semi-casual, semi-aggressive conversations between the two of them. It also meant that Jesse had a bit of insight into the clan, and the way they worked (at least, the little Genji knew - he had always seemed to be on the outside of the clan). 

Basic research revealed that while the Shimada-gumi were not particularly well-liked, they were respected and their insular city of Hanamura was one of the safest and well-run cities in the entire Hokkaido region. Yakuza were legal in Japan, of course, but not even the whisper of impropriety followed the Shimada clan. Jesse only knew of the unsavory aspects due to his connections with Genji and Blackwatch.

With nothing else beyond the encrypted message that hinted to some level of wrongdoing that would be underneath Overwatch’s purview, and the few bits of knowledge he could find on the net, plus whatever he could recall from Genji’s stories, he exited the Orca and waved to Lena.

“You gonna be okay, love?” Lena asked, leaning back in the pilot chair. “Want me ta stick around?”

“I’ll be fine, kiddo,” Jesse drawled, smiling wide. “I’ll call th’ Watchpoint when I need a pick-up. I’ll be ‘ere a while.”

With a quick salute, Lena pushed the button to close the hangar door and Jesse hefted his duffel higher on his shoulder. His papers were in order, his passport and his alias all in order, and he had already, on the Orca, booked a little hotel room in Hanamura. He made his way through the airport, got out, and immediately ordered a self-driving car to take him into Hanamura. Not directly, of course - as much as he had taken all precautions, he still had a bounty on his head, and airports were still one of the most heavily surveillanced areas of all society, besides government buildings and coffee shops. The route he charted was circuitous, and only when he was on his way did he pull out his secure communicator.

“Athena, secure and scan,” he murmured.

There was a gentle beep from his communicator, and he leaned the chair back. On the trip to Hokkaido, he had been doing as much research as he could - the six hour flight had been one of the longer trips he could ever remember taking, even including his Blackwatch days, and he’d researched and made arrangements and done everything he possibly could - so now, he just wanted to relax and let the car take him on his programmed route to Hanamura while he slept.

Before he could really doze off, however, there was a beep and Athena’s soft voice came out of the communicator. “Your vehicle is secure. No active or passive frequencies have been detected.”

Sighing, he sat the chair back up and grabbed his communicator - as much as he may have lost his respect for Gabriel, he appreciated the many lessons, one of which was to always report in immediately to make sure the situation hadn’t changed or new information hadn’t come to light. Tapping out the address, he logged his communicator channel and clicked on the mic only option. “Reading me, Winston?”

“Yes, Jesse, I’m here,” Winston’s voice came immediately, a little slurred - peanut butter, most likely, since it was easily in the afternoon and normal living hours, instead of this godawful middle of the night business Jesse was in personally. “Have you settled in?”

“‘M on route,” Jesse answered. “Did a bit of diggin’, but there ain’t much I can do from the little compnet I had on th’ flight. If’n you could do a bit more in depth diggin’ on yer end, lemme know the current situation with the Shimada, that’d be sweet. I’ll be in the outskirts of Hanamura ‘n about an hour’n a half, check in, do some checkin’ in on traffickin’ in this area? If’n there’s any chatter from th’ local authorities about increases or th’ like. I’ll be lookin’ in on it tomorrow, do the touristy thing I guess.”

“Of course,” Winston said warmly. “You know, if you see anything out of the ordinary, or if you have any problems, just head back - we are merely doing this as a formality.”

While Jesse understood where Winston was coming from - too few agents answered the Recall, and definitely no one from Blackwatch, so no one who could help with the seamier side of things besides Jesse himself was available - if there were people being trafficked, it was Overwatch’s job to stop them. It was the sort of shit he had done with Blackwatch, the stuff he had liked, before it had all gone to shit and he’d stepped away because Gabriel had become more and more paranoid and delusional.

Still, he let out a hum that could be agreement or not, however Winston wanted to take it. “Send me that research, let me know what you think or could figure out from the message, and I’ll do the legwork on my end.”

_ -A hunt. Good. I’ve been getting bored, vaquerito.- _

Jesse resolutely ignored the demon’s voice curling at the nape of his neck and instead signed off the communicator. His route was long, but even still, Hanamura wasn’t that far from Sapporo that he’d have more than a quick nap - so he best make good his time.

Reclining the chair back, he closed his eyes and tried to force his mind to still.


	3. Introducing Shimada Hanzo

He couldn’t keep ignoring the calls of his twin spirits. Reminiscing and remembering Genji like this wasn’t going to get him anywhere, and he might be close enough to bringing Genji home that he could try and make plans about it, try and figure out where Genji could have gone after Overwatch and Blackwatch had disbanded, but he couldn’t write down any of these plans, verbalize or actualize them, because his clan had always known Genji was powerful. Genji had never tried to hide it, had always been proud of it, of their strength, their ability to actualize the traits of the dragons they could speak to. It had taken Hanzo years to learn how to hide his strength, and it didn’t help that he had been blessed with double dragons. Still, he felt he was near enough to getting the clan where he wanted it, where he could try to track Genji down without risking one of the elders trying to kill Genji--

The dragons under his skin called again, insistently, as they had been for the last hour. With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes - corrective surgery only went so far, not with his powers, not with his abilities - and folded up his glasses, tucking them into his breast pocket, setting the holopad on the small table beside the armchair, and then carefully released some of his power, opening up his mind. “Ami, Rei. You wish to speak with me?”

_ <<Young master.>> _

That was Ami, and, with his eyes closed, he tilted his head, let her glowing blue form materialize in front of his eyelids.

“You have been trying to contact me,” Hanzo murmured.

_ <<Yes. For a while.>> _

Hanzo had been in a meeting earlier - it was why he was off the Shimada estate and in his apartment - and couldn’t afford to fuck up in front of the elders. His spirits knew this, of course, but it didn’t matter that they knew; they still didn’t like it when they reached for him and he wasn’t there.

“Is Rei sulking? You know why I cannot speak to you around the clan.”

_ <<You are always around the clan, so you always ignore us, until you want something from us,>> _ Ami said disapprovingly.

Hanzo paused, and licked his lips. She was right, of course - why wouldn’t she be? - but it didn’t make it easier to hear. After a few moments, he dropped his head, moving away from where she was hovering in the air. “Is that why you wish to speak to me? To castigate and condemn?”

He heard Ami sigh, and then there was a bigger pull on his power, letting her manifest a corporeal body, and he felt her thin, delicate claws catch in his slacks as she crawled up into his lap.  _ <<No. I come to you because you are who I have chosen as master, and I love you.>> _

With his eyes still closed, he shifted his hand, gently and tentatively trailed his fingers down over her back. “I don’t deserve you. You or Rei.”

_ <<I know,>> _ Ami said, voice smug, and her muzzle and whiskers tickled at the hollow of his throat.  _ <<We wished to speak to you because there is something new in our territory. A dry wind, blowing in from the east.>> _

Hanzo frowned, and risked opening his eyes. He was one of the most powerful mediums in Shimada history, which meant that manifesting his spirits wasn’t draining to the point of exhaustion. Still, he felt slightly dizzy as he met the gaze of the ethereal creature curled against his thighs and her serious expression. “A threat?”

Ami did a fluid twist of her head, her way of shrugging.  _ <<Not sure, not yet. Rei is looking. Something strange. Something  _ _ new _ _. >> _

Dragons were nothing much more than big cats that didn’t shun the water - their curiosity and nosiness was legendary. Chuckling a little, Hanzo scratched behind Ami’s horns and sighed. “Alright. Well, when you have more to tell me - ”

_ <<We do not like this new plan.>> _

Hanzo paused, hand frozen on Ami’s back. “The plan?”

_ <<Miyako. Her dragon tastes sick. Almost… corrupted. Be warned.>> _

Hanzo almost instinctively jerked to defend the plan - but his dragons were strong spirits, and they had warned him of treachery from family members before. He should not dismiss Ami’s words, no matter how inconvenient they were.

Licking his lips, he dropped his hand and fought to keep his face blank, even as a migraine began throbbing behind his eyes. “The meeting with the elders about our new cash-flow plan was hours ago. You could not tell me before?”

_ <<You were sinking too deeply into regrets. You were thinking again of your brother, and our kin.>> _

Shame and defensiveness flooded his chest, and before he could think of his words and Ami’s loyalty, he snapped out, “You do not get to tell me when I can and cannot think upon my own family!”

Ami stared at him with those ancient eyes, holding his stare for a long, drawn-out moment. Then she bobbed her head and he felt her pull on his energy dissipate as she faded away.

Self-loathing bubbled in his chest, weighing him down, but he couldn’t let it stop him. He had to figure out a feasible reason to use in order to tell the clan they were not going to follow the -  _ very rational _ \- plan Miyako had outlined at the meeting. He had to review the plans for his return journey to the ancestral home where he lived most of the time, and he had to make time to visit some of the more revered and respected members of the clan before returning.

He didn’t even  _ know _ why his dragons didn’t want him to follow Miyako’s plan. It would help if his dragons could be a little more specific than ‘smells sick.’

Out of sorts and angry at himself - both for being weak enough to think of his brother and wallow, and to snap at his dragons when all she was doing was saying what she thought - he allowed himself to sit a moment longer, trying to make his migraine go away, before standing up and taking the file folder.

His suitcase held his suits, a few toiletries, and his collapsed and disassembled bow - not that he was on a formal assassination, but more for a sense of security and safety. As he knew well, his clan knew his strength and feared it in him. While fear held men in check for a short period of time, sooner or later, they would test the boundaries. He already had to put down over two assassination attempts this year, four more in the past three years, and multiple attempts to out-maneuver him at the council of elders. It had gotten to the point, quite frankly, that he walked into every council meeting prepared against all lines of attack, since it was practically routine by now to have a challenge to his decisions and commands at every and any meeting where there were more than three clan elders present.

It also held a small storage compartment; he never went anywhere without this file, without his last bit of connection to the brother he had sent away to try and keep safe.

And what a good choice that turned out to be - five years after giving Blackwatch the one thing most precious to him, they shut down and abandoned his brother.

He had had years of practice in controlling his anger; even now, his movements were tight and controlled, neat and tight, with no wasted effort or movements. Only his fingers trembled, ever so slightly, from his rage as he slid the file folder into the hidden storage compartment and then moved to review Miyako’s proposal, looking for some plausible weakness he could use to justify throwing out what looked to be a perfectly legitimate (by the Shimada-gumi’s standards, at least) business proposition.

It was late into the night before he had managed to find something semi-plausible, and now he switched his focus - if he was going to dismiss one business plan, he knew he had to have another in place so that the elders would not feel as if they were losing money. He could feel his migraine getting worse in the background of his mind and considered summoning one of his guards to bring him some tea. He needed some level of caffeine to continue, and perhaps it would stave off the pounding headache.

Suddenly, he felt a deep, harsh  _ pull _ on him, making him gasp, eyes going blank and unseeing as his spirits tugged him from his body. He fought the pull, teeth gritted, doing his best to hold himself in his own form.

_ <<It is important you see this, master!>> _

Rei, then - Ami would never be so rude as to do this. Gritting his teeth, he shifted his work off of his lap so that it would not fall or be disrupted if his form slumped over during his absence, and then he reluctantly let go of his form to follow Rei’s insistent pulls.

When he next opened his eyes, it was somewhere… he did not recognize. Still within Hanamura - he could recognize the cherry trees he kept and maintained along the streets - but in a part of the city he had never visited. An inn or hotel of some kind. He caught the flash of a sign, just the corner, the color, the style, and then Rei rushed up along the outside of the Western-style hotel and then paused four floors up, hovering, Hanzo staring out through Rei’s eyes.

There was something in that room.

Instinctively, Hanzo knew whatever resided in that room was ancient, old, powerful,  _ dangerous _ . It would not be the first time a dangerous supernatural creature passed through Hanamura, and wouldn’t be the last, but Hanzo made sure to be aware of all the more dangerous ones. In some instances, particularly when they were more dangerous like the blood-drinkers of the western world, or even some of the ancient wyrms from Eastern Europe, he would invite them to the Shimada estate to treat with them as one should treat with all ancient and powerful beings.

In this case, it was not as clear cut as all that. The scent of heat, of dust, of fire and  _ power _ emanated from the room, no doubt about that, but it also seemed… muted. Toned down, tamped down, controlled and contained.

“What is it?” he whispered.

_ <<I cannot tell. I only know that it is not a threat. Yet. It could become one, if it decides to be.>> _

Hanzo considered the room, the location. From what he could tell, from surrounding signage and businesses, it looked like a tourist district. “It may be nothing but a visitor, a tourist. Is this what you noticed before, that you wished to show me?”

_ <<It is  _ _ new _ _ and that is important. >> _

Hanzo did his best not to verbalize his sigh - Rei could already feel his frustration and feeling of exasperation, no need to give her more reason to be upset with him - and instead held his tongue until he could formulate a respectful answer. “Rei, it is not new for creatures to pass through our territory.”

_ <<Never like  _ _ this _ _ before, master, and you know it! >> _ Rei retorted, and Hanzo could feel the connection growing shaky as Rei’s injured feelings weakened the ties that bound them together.

“I know, Rei, but - ” Hanzo began, which was as far as he got before spiritual energy suddenly rushed past him, immeasurable heat and pressure shoving against Rei’s body, trying to drive the spiritual dragon back and away.

Immediately, Rei and Hanzo turned as one, teeth baring as one. While Hanzo may not care overmuch for a new creature passing through, this was  _ his _ territory, and he could very well check up on anything within his domain.

_ -How  _ interesting. _ A lizard, and meat. Come to be eaten?- _

_ <<You will explain your presence in my territory, or  _ _ you _ _ will be the one eaten! >> _ Rei roared back, blue lightning beginning to spark from eyes and spines as she coiled to spring at the window.

Exerting control, Hanzo wrenched back to his body, dragging Rei with him. When he could open his eyes and see the furnishings of his modest apartment he kept while he was not in the Shimada estate, he let his breath out in a long sigh.

Another tremendous pull on his energies, and Hanzo allowed it, let Rei manifest into a towering creature that filled his whole apartment, roof to ceiling, crushing beneath her foot the low table as those arm-length incisors snapped in Hanzo’s face.  _ <<It is  _ _ our _ _ territory! We do not suffer to be chased away within  _ _ our own territory _ _! >> _

“I understand,” Hanzo said, voice raspy as he relearned his human form, shut away the dragon part of his powers, and he reached up to lay a hand near those very corporeal and very sharp fangs, rubbing his fingers over Rei’s muzzle. “Yet we knew nothing about what it was, and we were intruding upon a tired creature. Tomorrow we will return, and assert our control. But you did not hear the weariness; we were not being disrespected due to anything except short temper. We will see tomorrow if the short temper can be sweetened with rest and relaxation. You yourself only alerted me to this new presence four or so hours ago. If a traveler enters our lands…?”

Rei snarled, turning her head away and huffing, blowing away the soft pillows on the couch and making the small frivolous decorations - a painting, two small scrolls of good health and good wealth, a vase, the clock on the wall - rattle and shake in his breath.

“If a traveler enters?” Hanzo prompted again.

With a sullen growl, Rei muttered,  _ <<We extend hospitality and privacy. But she threatened us first! And she called me a lizard!>> _

Hanzo started to reply, and then he stopped and blinked at Rei’s face. “She?” he asked.

_ <<A yokai. Yuki-Onna. She steals the spirits of her victims.>> _

Yuki-Onnas were  _ very _ dangerous, but generally did not go searching for trouble outside of the winter season. Hanzo kept petting along the length of Rei’s muzzle, doing his best to calm the upset spirit, while his mind flashed as quickly as he could through various scenarios. He could leave the Yuki-Onna alone, but a Yuki-Onna fed upon humans - their lives, or their blood; it depended on the variation. It would be unwise to leave such a deadly predator alone in his city for an extended period of time.

“We will visit tomorrow. I will extend my business trip in the city center, and instruct all except for my personal bodyguards to return and ready the estate for the annual council meeting. I have to come up with a new business plan in any case; it will not hamper our dealings if we remain within these walls a few days longer.”

For all that Hanzo was extremely powerful - his spirits spoke to him and interacted with him without any ritual, prompting, or even effort on his part - it still took him completely by surprise when his spirits manipulated their forms; Rei suddenly was much smaller, more like a small pony instead of the elephantine shape from before, and she scrabbled up Hanzo’s leg, talons pricking through Hanzo’s slacks.  _ <<You will not do Miyako’s plan, yes? Ami told you?>> _

“Ami told me, yes, without any reason or particular argument that would convince the elders,” Hanzo grumbled, helping Rei settle onto his lap. “I have a lot more work to continue.”

_ <<It is very late. I thought I would be taking you from your sleep, not from work.>> _

“You and Ami seem to persist in making work for me,” Hanzo sighed. “I could be sleeping now, if not -”

_ <<You would not be asleep. You would be tossing and turning. Your sleep is never easy. If I could attack those dreams and drive them away…>> _

“Regardless, it is what is the truth, and I  _ could _ be sleeping right now. What part of  _ I need a reason more plausible than ‘her dragon feels sick’ _ is unclear?”

Rei grumped, stretching out over Hanzo’s lap, tail curled and tickling along Hanzo’s knees, neck stretched out to occupy every inch of the sofa not currently occupied with Hanzo.

For a moment, Hanzo considered giving Rei a gentle push with his mind, telling the dragon to dissipate and leave him alone, but after he had angered Ami earlier, and Rei even, he was not going to turn his nose up at the affection offered him even when it made him dizzy and hungry. With a sigh, he leaned his head back against the couch and stared up at the ceiling.

At least if he was here for a few more days, he could find a viable replacement to Miyako’s sensible plan of simply opening up a club in their newly acquired building space. Perhaps if he simply expressed dislike for the profession - he eschewed frivolous things, and another club in a city already teeming with clubs seemed useless and unnecessary - or if he analyzed the area of town and found a better, more profitable use of the space…

***

When he opened his eyes, he realized he had fallen asleep in his clothes, and Rei’s comforting presence on his lap was gone. He had been leaning back against the couch, and his neck was now stiff and painful. At the corner of his mouth, he could feel the tacky stiffness that indicated he’d been drooling - probably even snoring - and with a groan, he sat up and tried to stretch his spine.

He needed to get moving, start his exercises. It was still very early in the morning, of course - for all that he’d gone to sleep in the early hours of the morning, he woke up reliably at six and began his day. His bodyguards knew that, as well, and they would soon be here with his breakfast as well as expecting him to be ready to leave.

He hadn’t done enough research to have a strong reason. He’d have to bank on his spirits, but ever since his youth, since the unfortunate situation surrounding his spirits, surrounding his and Genji’s powers, he tried his best to lock that part of him away. He led the Shimada with an iron fist, leaning on his powers sparingly - he could count on one hand the amount of times he’d used his powers openly before the elders in the past ten years.

Standing up, he made his way into the restroom and took care of his business, cleaning and combing his beard to remove the tacky path the drool had left, slicking his hair back, putting in his contacts, and changing his suit. By the time he came out, Issei and Kiyo were already there, bringing in the paper as well as a sheaf of papers - probably the finalized business contract for Miyako’s plan - and setting down a tray with his natto and white rice, as well as a steaming bowl of miso soup. The tea was already set down on the - replaced - table.

Issei and Kiyo were too respectful to say anything, but he could see their sidelong looks at where the table was. The previous table, a beautiful handcrafted masterpiece set low in front of the couch, was gone, and instead there was clearly something bought hastily. It would most likely be replaced by something much more befitting the heir of the Shimada clan.

Hanzo figured he may as well capitalize on it - after all, he was not so far removed that he did not realize how quickly gossip spread among the servants and working men within his organization - and was glad that he had not fully bathed or put himself to rights. Making his voice hoarse and raspy, he said stiffly, “I will not be leaving today.”

Kiyo’s head snapped up, her eyes widening in surprise, and Issei let out a soft noise. “Were you attacked in the night, oyabun?” Kiyo asked, voice trembling.

“In a manner of speaking. A spirit appeared before me, angered and furious. I had to banish it from my presence and I am very tired.” Deliberately, he paused, and then put his fingers to the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. “I must reflect over which of my decisions has angered the spirit world.”

“Surely the spirits could not be upset over the commonplace matters of our clan,” Kiyo said slowly.

The meetings he had completed were standard, of course - they happened annually. Additionally, spirits never just  _ manifested _ for the Shimada; they had to be carefully called, with a ritual and sacrifice of some material goods like incense or food.

(The  _ good _ Shimada needed the ritual, the intricate formality that allowed them to tap into the spiritual strength that lay, for the most part, dormant within them. The actual Shimada line could cut out some of those steps, for they anchored the dragons to their body with their ritualistic tattoos, but even then only four in recorded history had ever, or could ever, do something on the level that Hanzo and Genji could do - talk to their dragons, call their dragons to them, without doing anything but thinking their given names.)

(Ever since Hanzo realized how much their power terrified the elders, bred jealousy, and sprouted plots against their lives, he sent Genji away and hid his own deep within him. To everyone’s knowledge, he could only do the bare minimum with his power, could only touch his dragon to the same level as every other person with Shimada blood, not what he  _ truly _ could do.)

“There was one new item brought before the council, was there not?” Issei murmured, staring at the new table.

Kiyo turned, her eyes slightly narrowed, and the two bodyguards had a silent, intense exchange before Kiyo sighed and turned to the door. “I shall inform the Council that your dragons manifested in anger against the new issue brought up, and that you will remain here to find a solution.”

Hanzo inclined his head, just the slightest, nodding as a befitting a lord talking to a vassal, and returned to his private bedroom. He heard Kiyo exiting, Issei’s movements as he settled the new furniture and the food, and as he bathed he tried to come up with ideas besides a perfectly reasonable club.

Perhaps a cafe, a themed one. But no, the cursory information he had about the area indicated it was unlikely people spent much time there during the day - a warehouse district was good for nighttime activities, but not daytime.

Perhaps a gym, or a city center. Or…

The dragon manifested under his feet, nearly making him trip and fall into the glass door of the shower. Growling under his breath, he shoved his hair out of his eyes and glowered down at Rei. “What do you want?” he hissed. “You know you are not supposed to manifest when my bloodline is so nearby!”

_ <<The Yuki-Onna has awoken. We must meet with her and discuss reparations for treating us so badly last night!>> _

Hanzo pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to figure out what options were available to him. Rei was right - the Yuki-Onna needed to be talked to in order to make sure the yokai wouldn’t go attacking any humans in the city of Hanamura. But he needed to reconvene the meeting, continue the fiction of what had happened to the table as a reason to break the original plan, and come up with a good option that would also be fiscally prudent and worthwhile.

But he needed to deal with the Yuki-Onna, before she started preying on people’s lives.

Closing his eyes, he reached out to Ami, tugging on the bond between them. When he felt the pull on his power and strength, he opened his eyes to see his second dragon floating before him.

_ <<You called?>> _

Hanzo sighed. “We need to discuss with a Yuki-Onna the rules of my territory, but we do not want to offend an ancient or old creature. Instead, I would like to request for you to extend an offer to her, to a formal dinner.”

_ <<Here?>> _ Ami’s voice pulled that edge that showed she was surprised and uncertain.

“It would show a measure of respect. Besides, until we establish the rules for remaining here, around humans, I would rather not take a Yuki-Onna to a place where she might feed freely.” Hanzo stepped back under the spray and let the cold water hit his scalp, take the suds out and sluice down his body. “Do you think otherwise?”

_ <<I understand. I will offer,>> _ Ami said quietly, and she disappeared.

_ <<I could have done that,>> _ Rei grumbled, sulking.

With a sigh, Hanzo bent and picked up Rei like a cat, scratching behind Rei’s ears. Rei chirruped, stretching and luxuriating in Hanzo’s attention. “You could have. But I could not risk the Yuki-Onna recognizing you from last night, and becoming angered, and disregarding the invitation entirely. The Yuki-Onna may not be reasonable.”

Like many spirits, Rei was smug and enjoyed praise; the dragon spirit preened.  _ <<That is true. Many creatures are not as reasonable as dragons.>> _

One thing his dragons were good for - he was so used to their ridiculous stunts and thoughts that he had perfected keeping a straight face even in the face of such absurdity, which served him well in meetings with the clan elders.


	4. A Dinner Invitation

Of all the things he had expected would happen while he was here in Hanamura, waking up somehow knowing that his demonic partner had tasted something interesting outside the hotel room last night and  _ didn’t _ wake him was nowhere on the list. Jesse jerked upright as he felt his other side flex its magic, stretch out feelers.

_ What are you doing?! _

_ -Something was bothering us, trying to look in. I sent them away. You’re welcome.- _

_ We’re trying to keep a low profile! _

_ -It was probably some local spirit. Unlikely it will bother us again.- _

Jesse made a face.  _ Doesn’t matter none, we aren’t supposed t’ be drawing attention to us. This is just a small recon mission, nothing else. _

_ -I said a few harsh words, that’s it. You need to relax more.- _

Jesse slowly laid back down, scowling at the ceiling. Now he had to worry that his demon had pissed off a local spirit that would give them trouble the rest of their time here. Spirits were touchy creatures; they didn’t like being pushed around, particularly if they thought they owned territory or were guardian spirits of a natural area.

_ -You worry too much.- _

_ You don’t worry enough, _ Jesse replied, grinding his flesh palm into his eye, the other eye squinted closed.

Not much he could do right now. Heaving a sigh, he looked out the window. The sun was pretty high in the sky - jetlag never got easier, and he was sure he was running a few hours behind schedule, particularly with how late he’d got in last night - but it wasn’t so late as to completely eat away the day. He still had a couple of hours to go before it would be acceptable to eat lunch, and so he got out of the bed.

In the shower, he avoided looking in the mirror or reflective surfaces - he shared mental space with the demon, he didn’t need to see it sitting in his right eye - as he planned out what to do. If there was trafficking of any sort going on, it was unlikely he’d be able to simply stumble across it. His Japanese was passable, but not perfect. The police weren’t going to talk to him, first because he was an outsider, and secondly, if this  _ was _ the doing of the Shimada-gumi, they weren’t going to interfere with it. Instead, he needed to find a way to contact someone in the Shimada-gumi in the first place. He needed someone who would be sympathetic with what he wanted. He could come at this very blatantly, simply knocking and asking for an audience, but the information had come through Blackwatch channels, and not only that, but Jesse had been Blackwatch for the majority of his life. He had taken those lessons to heart. For all that he was an outsider in this land, he could definitely spend the evening in clubs, looking for other hunters, people who were taking people up and disappearing with them. If, after a couple of days, he didn’t see anything, he could assume that the trafficking didn’t originate here and instead people were being transported through here - which would necessitate finding and building contacts, someone who could read the environment around them better than Jesse would, as someone unaware of the undercurrents in the air.

Lunch, first. He’d get dressed, get some of the more obnoxious colors out of his suitcase, set Athena up in his ear and keep his hat low to keep his face covered. People would remember the clothes before they remembered the man; it would allow him to play up the dumb tourist, make people underestimate him, look past him.

_ -What are we hunting for?- _

Jesse sighed, briefly ran a razor along his neck, trimmed down the beard to keep it more or less neat, getting rid of the scratchy stubble. “If you can reach out, sniff out and see places where people are suffering and in despair, we can check out those places. You might even get to devour some of the people we find there, if we can find out who’s taking these people.”

He could feel his demon stretch luxuriously in the back of his mind, like a warm weight curving around the base of his skull and dripping down his spine.  _ -That sounds good, vaquerito, that sounds  _ very _ good.- _

It didn’t take long to pull out some garishly bright orange and green checkered shirt, a floppy, wide-brimmed hat made of straw, and some almost neon-purple pants to go with the largest most obvious cowboy boots. Tugging the brim low and tying his hair back tight against his head, he exited the hotel room, making sure to keep his weapon hidden and unobtrusive and his camera big and hanging heavy from his neck.

Out on the street, he gathered a lot of strange looks - he was tall, and dressed to grab attention, and he was whistling to himself as he made his way down to the nearest ramen shop. There, in halting, broken, and obviously touristy-Japanese, he ordered something to eat and sat down.

_ -So  _ many _ energies, hermanito,- _ the demon whispered into his mind.  _ -They are all so curious - and afraid. As they should be.- _

Jesse ignored the voice and focused on eating the noodles in front of him. It wasn’t a traditional breakfast as he knew of it, but he was starving and any food was good at this point.  _ Is there any area that has too much despair or darkness, that we should look into? _

_ -Not here. Here is very…  _ happy. _ Bright. Energetic. Ugh.- _

Jesse bit back a smile, letting the floppy brim cover his eyes as he slurped obnoxiously at his noodles, pretending not to notice the scandalous looks he was getting from the people around him. Oh, he was in an area heavily populated by tourists - he certainly wasn’t the only person getting strange looks - it had just been so long since he’d played the stalking horse that it was making him that much more on edge. In Blackwatch, he’d played this role before, but ever since he abandoned Blackwatch, went on the run, he’d been all about keeping his head down and his movements hidden. It was hard to overcome the last ten years of habits.  _ People can be happy and bright. _

There was no verbal response, just a muttered grumble as the demon sunk deeper into his consciousness, heat permeating Jesse’s bones.

Standing up, Jesse dropped some bills on the table for tip and made his way down the street, hands on his camera. Though his demon held all the true power, it wasn’t as if the demon was separate from Jesse, so even though the demon was sulking, he could pull up the beginnings of deadeye in his right eye, letting him see energy trails. There were many bright colors, but enough dark trails to keep him from completely aimless wandering.

For more than three hours, he wandered the streets. There was no concentrated area of despair that one would expect to come from a building that housed trafficked humans, simply the average bad feelings floating through the air, the odd bad-intentioned human who wanted to cause harm to others. When his feet were finally tired, he found a small restaurant that looked tourist-friendly and sat down.

His demon, which until now had been sulking and quiet in the back of his brain, suddenly surged to the front, violently enough that Jesse’s vision bleached out into burnt sienna, and a red haze began to film over his vision.

_ What are you doing? _ he snapped, dropping his head down and hoping that his brim, and the business of the restaurant, would keep anyone from looking him in the eye.

_ -Do you  _ feel _ that?- _

Jesse cast his attention out, looking for what his demon was noticing, and he could feel in the distance the weight of ozone, a sharp scent of lightning.

_ -That came last night to bother us, and I chased it away. It comes back now, and it will  _ die _ when I catch ahold of it.- _

_ We can’t draw attention to ourselves, and I don’t want to deal with what would happen if we kill a spirit here! _ Jesse growled, envisioning reins to loop around his demon and drag it back.

The demon shifted, threw off the reins and bared burning incisors against the top of Jesse’s spine.  _ -They will not flaunt our authority!- _

_ We have none here, you moron! We are on  _ their _ land! _ Jesse ground out, ignoring the feeling of burning on his neck as he reached again to hold the demon still.

A waiter came to Jesse’s table, and Jesse blindly pointed at the first thing that looked familiar on the menu, glad when the person left. He was so focused on holding his demon still and keeping it from slipping his control that he didn’t even notice that the smell of charged air was closer than ever. It wasn’t until he managed to gain some semblance of control, color bleeding back into the world, that he realized there was a glowing blue dragon sitting on the table in front of him.

A glowing.

Blue.

_ Dragon. _

“What the  _ hell _ \- ” Jesse gasped, jerking back from the table, just as the waiter was bringing his food.

The dragon tilted its head at Jesse, and the waiter was also staring at Jesse strangely. It was clear the waiter did not see the dragon at all, and so Jesse apologized in his touristy-Japanese, took the burger-looking item (he hoped it was a burger, but he really didn’t know). He did his best not to get near the dragon, and he could feel his demon dragging color out of his world again and he desperately tried to fight the shift in his vision.

_ <<My master wishes to meet you.>> _

Jesse choked on his own breath and nearly dropped the food in his lap. “I beg your pardon?” he said.

_ <<You are newly come to this land. My master wishes to speak to you of the laws that govern this land, over a dinner meal, if you would be so amenable.>> _

Within his mind, his demon roared,  _ -You have no right to order me about!- _

Jesse winced at the heat that blasted from the demon’s voice, and licked his lips. “This would be simply a cordial dinner, where guest laws hold true?”

_ <<Of course. No harm shall come to you at this meeting, through my master’s doing or inaction.>> _ The dragon reminded him of a cat, drawn up on its back paws, its front paws clasped before its chest, long neck tilted. It was barely the size of a kitten, and it tasted… new.

His demon seemed to have also noticed that.  _ -You are not the power that attempted to spy upon us last night,- _ the demon said, voice curious.

_ <<I am not. My twin is hasty, and only knew of an ancient power residing within the room. In her excitement, she did not properly introduce herself. It was why my master sent myself, after a good amount of time, when you were no longer in privacy.>> _

Jesse hesitated. On the one hand, having two spirits indicated a ridiculous amount of power on the dragons’ master’s part. On the other hand, ignoring the invitation may have negative repercussions, particularly on his journey here. “Where and when would  such a meeting take place?” he asked tentatively.

_ <<Today, at Sakuramichi by 9 in the evening. My master will be waiting.>> _ The dragon dropped its head, as if in a tiny bow, and then it suddenly eeled away in a flash of light.

The suddenness of the movement had Jesse’s demon flaring up in the back of his mind again, but it subsided slowly when they both realized the other spirit had disappeared, and was no longer close enough for either of them to sense its presence. The burger-like food had some different scents than Jesse was used to, but it tasted good, and as he ate he thought at his other side,  _ What do you think? Seems legitimate, and in an area where we are both going to be on our best behavior. _

_ -It was respectful this time. Said it was a twin, which means that this person can manipulate two spirits, both very powerful. Be very careful. Be aware. And you must come dressed well to the meeting. Intimidation is important.- _

Jesse nodded to himself. He’d still need to be in some sort of disguise, but he couldn’t be playing the fool like he was currently. He didn’t want to wear his hat - or maybe he should, people always underestimated his intelligence when he had his straw hat on. Still, all his wanted posters had that hat on; it might not be the best idea.

He had some slacks, and a vest he could wear over an old white shirt. His boots would do well, and he could slick his hair back with some gel, make it look less like his standard hair style.

Maybe this ‘master’ would know something about the trafficking, and he could ask.

“Ready to head back?” Jesse murmured, finishing off the burger and leaving some bills on the table.

His demon purred in the back of his mind as he made his way back to the hotel.

***

He was glad he’d chosen to change, and to go with a slick ‘upper class’ look - the restaurant was one of those that he’d only eaten in twice, and both times it was when Reyes had finagled for him to get a medal ceremony for something he’d done. It would probably have ridiculous prices, but he knew how these games were played - he was a guest; he wouldn’t be paying, even if that spirit’s master  _ thought _ he would be paying.

The person at the podium clearly spoke excellent English, and since Jesse was playing as if he didn’t have any knowledge of Japanese at all, he spoke gratefully to them, informing them that he had been invited. Apparently, that was all they needed to hear; almost immediately, Jesse was being led not just to the VIP section, but up a flight of stairs to a private balcony, that had a beautiful view of the antique lamp posts and sconces that illuminated the cherry blossoms in the street below. They were removed enough, with a hardlight shield thin enough, that only the faintest of muffled noise came from the foot traffic below, the glitter of the hardlight shield making the sparkle of the stars that much brighter.

Behind the table was one of the most handsome men Jesse had ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on - an arm stretched over the back of the curved booth where he sat, legs crossed at the knee, clearly as in control of his environment as one person could be. Not just that, but he could instantly recognize who this was, considering the fact that he was this person’s brother’s partner for a good amount of their shared youth in Blackwatch.

From the look in the man’s golden brown eyes - intelligent, judging, and absolutely certain as they watched him approach - he was sure the head of the Shimada clan knew who  _ he _ was. Clearing his throat, he made the decision not to mince words, or play at being different than who he was. Instead, he bowed deeply when he was close enough to the table. “Shimada Hanzo, I presume?” he said, voice quiet and respectful.

“You are correct, of course. You would know,” the man murmured, voice soft. He was in a closely tailored pinstripe suit, hair short and styled in messy spikes that swept away from his sharp cheekbones and well-trimmed beard. There were soft streaks of grey at the temples, and if Jesse  _ really _ concentrated, past those immaculate shoes and the leather gloves that burst out of the button-down shirt, he could see the shimmering outline of two dragon spirits. Granted, they were much bigger than the tiny one that had appeared before him today, and he had to wonder if this man had  _ more _ than the two he had already guessed.

The man’s voice - Shimada’s voice - was a rough growl, guttural and heavy with meaning, and the English was as immaculate, if not better, than the greeter at the front of the restaurant. It did not change the fact that his accent was unmistakable, though faint enough not to cause an issue. “I would like to welcome such an ancient and prestigious creature as a Yuki-Onna into my territory, and wonder at the difference between my country’s ice to this warmth and heat that is clearly your element.”

Jesse did his best to keep his frown from his face, casting his mind about to try and figure out what a Yuki-Onna was, and why the Shimada thought Jesse was one. “Just a human, Shimada-san,” he said, testing the words out. “A human with some gifts, it is true, but not a creature in my own right.”

A slow, lazy smile curled that forbidding and almost cruel mouth, and Shimada huffed out a laugh. “Of course. We all hide as much as we can, I understand. Yet that does not in any way change the facts that I know.”

In a way, it was an ultimatum, one Jesse could recognize. If he continued to deny the ‘facts’ Shimada knew, he would be insulting the other man’s intelligence. Still, they were  _ not _ true, and he needed to explain that somehow.

“To my knowledge, a Yuki-Onna is not what I am. Perhaps that is a Japanese equivalent for who or what I am, but I had never heard of it in that term.”

Interest sparked in Shimada’s eyes, and he leaned a little forward. “Do tell. What did my brother call you, then?”

He probably shouldn’t be surprised Shimada asked about his kin - he knew that family was big to the Shimada-gumi - but it still threw him. “Wouldn’t he call home and tell you?” he parried, still standing, not sure whether he should approach the table or not.

For a long moment, there was dead silence, and then Shimada gestured to the opposite end of the curve. “Sit. We are here to eat, and to discuss the rules within this territory, and to understand what your - if not Yuki-Onna, perhaps mazoku, or yokai, but your…  _ power _ , is allowed to harm and what must remain untouched within Hanamura.”

“Of course,” Jesse murmured, sitting down.

A waiter discreetly stepped up when Jesse had sat down, offering sake, to which Jesse politely declined and instead asked for a whiskey. When the waiter walked away, Shimada sniffed dismissively. “A coarse drink for a coarse man, I suppose. You are Blackwatch, are you not?”

“Well - ” Jesse stopped, and cleared his throat. “Well, there is no more Blackwatch.”

“I am aware. But you were there. I distinctly remember you behind Commander Reyes’s shoulder. I even remember that disastrous mission you decided to carry out in Rialto, where you exposed my brother’s person to the whole world.”

Jesse winced. “That was a long time ago,” he began.

“Eight years ago,” Shimada murmured.

Inclining his head, Jesse let the corner of his mouth tilt up. “You’re right, of course. Eight years since our mission in Rialto, which did not go as we had planned, unfortunately.”

“It seemed unplanned entirely, from start to finish,” Shimada said. “You put my brother in jeopardy, and paraded him before the world. He was supposed to be protected, and  _ hidden _ , in Blackwatch.”

“There was something that - ” Jesse paused, and shook his head. He wasn’t going to be baited into this, not when he was here looking for proof that Shimada was dealing in human flesh. Clearing his throat, he switched tack. “You know, to my knowledge, you asked for me to come here, or someone in your operation did. You’ve broken your word and have been dealing in beings, either human or omnic.”

“I  _ suspect _ ,” Shimada interrupted, voice cutting, “that some of my family have been continuing to deal in something I put a stop to years ago. I would be very careful about accusing  _ me _ about breaking one’s word, when Blackwatch was supposed to protect and care for my brother. Where is he, by the way?”

Jesse stared at those cold brown eyes, feeling his demon curl again behind his eyes, staring out across the table at Shimada.

After a few agonizingly long, drawn-out moments, Shimada let out a huff of air and dropped his eyes. “This was not intended to anger you, or upset you. It was a meeting to sit across from an ancient creature and ask that you do not hunt in my lands.”

“You didn’t know I was Blackwatch?” Jesse asked, skeptical and unwilling to believe such a claim.

But Shimada stuck to the claim. “Until you stepped into this restaurant, I simply believed you a traveling creature, one that could harm ordinary citizens within my territory. This means, of course, that you are part of that reformed Overwatch. Is it still Overwatch?”

Jesse debated on how to answer that. On the one hand, he had not come back to join Overwatch, especially not the Overwatch of old. He had known, too intimately, the problems that came with such a ‘pure, white, snow-driven’ ideal of the world that Overwatch had stubbornly clung to, to the detriment of Blackwatch. Yet, he watched Shimada’s mouth curl into a sneer at the word Overwatch, and he felt defensive and even angry. Yes, Overwatch was reforming, but it was a new beast, a new outlook and a new approach all rolled into one. That was the only reason Jesse was giving it a chance.

So he tempered his response. “It is based on the ideals of Overwatch, with a much more practical outlook. It is… what the world needs, with the rise and push of Talon and the Omnics still attaching in many parts of this world.”

For another long moment, Shimada kept his blank and empty eyes on Jesse, before smirking and tossing his head. “As expected. Well, I suppose I can trust an  _ Overwatch _ operative not to hunt indiscriminately. If you can track down proof of some of my family or clan still dealing in that trade, it would be appreciated if you could pass on that proof so that I may deal with that member decisively. Otherwise, welcome to Hanamura, Jesse McCree.”

Shimada stood up, setting some folded bills on the table. “Your meal is coming. I would welcome you to enjoy it as deeply as you wish. Far be it from me to slight one with such an ancient power, even if you are not a Yuki-Onna.”

Jesse watched out of the corner of his eye as Shimada passed. He could see at his feet, like otters, two faintly glowing blue dragons, both of whom glanced at him as they passed. One faded into nothingness even as he watched; the other ran alongside Shimada’s long strides like a rabbit.

_ That was… weird. _

The demon in his core hummed under his thoughts, interested and intrigued.  _ -We’ll go looking for what we were looking for. But we will also study this one for a longer time. He is interesting, even if he was not sure what we were. He treated  _ me _ with respect.- _

Unspoken was that Shimada had not respected Jesse - though Jesse could understand objectively why. Blackwatch was supposed to be in place to protect Genji, and they hadn’t done so for very long before they were forcefully disbanded.

Then again… Shimada was supposedly the clan leader, in control and remote. All of Jesse’s information, and Genji’s bitter tirades, only pointed to Shimada Hanzo having no emotions towards anyone and being in control at every given moment. The Shimada Hanzo Jesse met today was anything but that. Even when thinking he was facing an ancient creature that could harm him or others around him, he had still lashed out when reminded of his brother.

It might be easier than Jesse had originally assumed to gather information on one Shimada Hanzo.


	5. Knife from the Shadows

_ <<You lost your temper,>> _ Ami said disapprovingly.

Hanzo didn’t reply; he knew well enough he had bungled that meeting. He had secured only a precious hour free from his bodyguards; he did not want them wondering why Hanzo had taken an interest in a random tourist. To their knowledge - to the entire  _ clan’s _ knowledge - Hanzo was no more powerful than any one of them. He wouldn’t notice when other creatures, even powerful ones, would wander into Hanamura. He definitely wouldn’t interact with an  _ Overwatch  _ agent, especially the new formation of Overwatch, which was still largely an unknown quantity and so something to give a wide berth to until it was clear which way the coin would fall.

In any case, he had to return to his apartment before Issei realized he was gone - his bodyguards were bringing in two of the clan elders to talk about what other plans he could implement in the warehouse. Not that he really  _ knew _ what he was going to do with that warehouse; there was really no viable plan beyond a club, not that would turn a good profit.

Maybe he could just sell it. Say that it was cursed, bad enough to pull out entirely, that they’d supplement their income in another manner. He had no ideas left.

It was quick work to cloak himself in shadow, to be sure there was no one in his bedroom or watching him, using his heightened senses, and then crawl back into his bedroom window. Genji had used that trick regularly to sneak into clubs.

Hanzo gently closed his window, because he knew better than to allow his anger to cause him to lose control of his actions.

The man - Hanzo had done his research back when , and knew who he was: McCree, Jesse McCree, second in command of Blackwatch during Blackwatch’s peak, someone who was powerful but who had no record of his power anywhere Hanzo could find through legal or illegal means, someone who had disappeared without a trace after Blackwatch’s fall - had brought up Genji, had asked why Genji hadn’t contacted Hanzo.

And the simple, honest answer was that Hanzo  _ didn’t know _ .

He knew he had sent Genji away, even though Genji hadn’t  _ wanted _ to be sent away. He ended up having to come down on Genji for using his powers without toning down, over and over, until he gave Genji an ultimatum - voluntarily submit to having his powers bound, or leave to Blackwatch.

Genji hadn’t even said goodbye.

Hanzo had swallowed his hurt, and his bone-deep longing to have his brother back, by reminding himself that Genji had been quickly running through the patience of the clan, that the clan would soon rebel and simply have Genji assassinated. The clan might pay lip service to honoring those that could summon and wield the dragons, but those people had to be strictly controlled. They could not be  _ too _ powerful, they could not disobey the clan elders in any way, and they could not, without question, play with their spirits as if their spirits were pets.

While Hanzo had realized it was easy enough to hide his powers, hide his spirits, and had done so since very young so that the elders wouldn’t notice him and his strength, Genji had sneered at such a tactic. Genji had never once pretended to be anything other than who he was, had regularly kept his dragon spirit manifested and around his shoulders, and when Hanzo had confronted him about it… Genji had mocked Hanzo, told Hanzo that he was nothing but a coward, bowing and scraping to lick shit off the shoes of the elders.

To this day, Hanzo could remember that look in Genji’s eyes, the pure disgust and disdain and even betrayal in his little brother’s gaze.

_ <<You are  _ ignoring _ me! >> _ Ami growled.

Hanzo bit his tongue, hissed in a breath, and noticed absently that his hand was shaking at his side - a nervous tic that had started happening more and more often, as the clan kept trying to pull away from his orders and direction. It didn’t help, of course, that three of the clan elders had passed and four of his cousins had gotten powerful enough to get their own dragon tattoos, which had directly correlated to those cousins starting to think they could buck his edicts in the Shimada clan.

Still, it was unacceptable for him to show such a weakness. Deliberately, he focused on his hand until it steadied.

Rei materialized at his feet, curled her tail around his ankle.  _ <<We left the meeting too early, master.>> _

Hanzo didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want to know again how he failed. Instead, he stripped off his suit and threw it on the floor, going to the closet to pull out his traditional gi, the one that would bear his tattoo and remind the elders of his strength and position. “My bloodline will be coming here. You will need to leave.”

The two dragons stared at him, their eyes judging and disapproving, and then the two of them dissipated. Hanzo glowered at the ground, teeth gritted, and he knew, he knew that in less than twenty minutes two people who could either support him or block him would walk in his apartment and he would need to prove to them that the spiritual world looked down upon a very practical venture.

Maybe he could make up something about the land being cursed, if he couldn’t come up with a viable alternative plan in… the seventeen minutes he had left.

As he was getting ready, he heard some noise in the other room. A quick glance at the clock revealed that whoever it was, was  _ early _ . Growling under his breath - as much as he respected and followed the guidance of the clan elders, he was still the oyabun, and this was his apartment. They had forfeited their position at the forefront of the clan to take on advisory roles; they did not get to invade his own space in this manner.

He finished running his comb through his hair. Generally speaking, he would have gone out to the front room, set the area up neatly and place himself in a position of power to greet those that walked in. If they were early, however, they could wait there until they were supposed to see him, even though it meant remaining in this room for four more minutes.

He sat down in seiza and tried to organize his thoughts, his ideas. He could have contacted Genji; he certainly had contacted the Blackwatch commander, Reyes, to make sure Genji was fine, was doing well. Reyes would only tell him the bare minimum, which was to be expected if Genji did not want contact with Hanzo. Still, that jab the man - McCree - made stuck in his mind, circled around and around. Why didn’t Genji talk to him? They were apart for  _ years _ . Not once did Genji attempt to contact him. Not even that, but after that mission in Rialto that put Genji back on the map and let the elders know that Genji was not in fact dead, and was somewhere using the Shimada’s gifts and powers for someone other than the Shimada clan - after that, Hanzo had intercepted  _ two _ assassination orders or attempts on the part of the Shimada clan, and Reyes had told him, in one of their few conversations after that fateful mission, that he had prevented another attempt on Genji’s life. Blackwatch, the very organization that was supposed to be protecting Genji, had instead jeopardized him after Hanzo had gotten him out.

For that  _ McCree _ to imply Hanzo was at fault for not communicating with Genji…

What stung was that that  _ man _ was right. Hanzo could have contacted Genji. He had not.

When Blackwatch suddenly collapsed, Hanzo had - foolishly, he now knew - hoped that Genji would return. He was in a better position at that time, more in control of the clan, and he had… well, he had believed that he and Genji could, together, keep the clan in line and competently control the clan and the city to go in the direction  _ they _ wanted.

Instead, Genji suddenly disappeared, nothing even remotely pinging on Hanzo’s radar. The only positive knowledge Hanzo had was that he knew Genji hadn’t disappeared because of an assassination order originating from the clan. Anything else, he had no idea. He knew the terrorist organization called Talon had been gunning for Blackwatch, but he could not find any confirmation that they had captured or killed his brother - and he’d been watching, closely, enough to know that he had at least three members of his family (two of which he knew, one of which he did not know) cooperating with Talon and feeding information to Talon.

With one last check in the mirror in his bathroom, pulling his gi tight and crisp - and checking the clock to make sure he was exactly one minute late - he exited his bedroom and entered the main room.

Only long-standing control and practice at standing before the clan without looking shaken or surprised enabled him to keep his cool when he saw not just the two clan elders, but Miyako and the clan elder that supported her, Shimada Mayumi.

“Welcome,” he said simply, moving to the kitchen to set the tea cups onto the tray, removing the teapot from the heat. “Surely, an auspicious occasion has arisen to bring forth so many important members into my apartment.”

Mayumi-sensei huffed out what could have been a laugh, though she didn’t really respond to him directly. Instead, she tapped the floor with her seeing rod and shook her finger. “In the meeting yesterday, we all agreed that Mi-kun’s plan was better for the clan. It would bring in a large amount of revenue. The building is sitting, empty and useless. Our hold in that corner could use some shoring up, and it would give our people a convenient safehouse and refuge in a part of the city that does not have as large of a presence of our clan as we may like.”

“Indeed, I believed it a brilliant plan, one I was grateful to hear. And yet.”

“And yet, you tell us this fantastical story of spirits attacking you at night.” The eldest one there, Shigeru-sensei, the one that had a small soft spot for Hanzo, thumped his hand on his thigh. “Sounds like utter nonsense.”

Using deliberate motions, Hanzo kept everything controlled and precise as he set the strainer over each small cup and poured the steaming liquid into the cups. “You know well about the situation. I’m sure you’ve talked to Issei and Kiyo as thoroughly as you could. You do not have to believe me, but I was exhausted from banishing the spirit. I do not know why it was angered, but the only thing new all three of us could think of was the business of the warehouse. It may be worth the while to cleanse the place, at the very least.”

The three elders looked at one another. “It would be an unnecessary expense,” Shigeru-sensei began.

Hanzo cut in, voice clipped. “Expense, or not, you chose me to be the clan leader because I was both the heir to Sojiro and because I can summon two spirits at my command. I have the strength to be your leader, to understand the spiritual world, and I know you know that. I need not seek permission for a short procedure that would reveal the presence of angry spirits or not.”

The four of them looked at him, and the elders were clearly perturbed. He knew they did not like to be reminded of when he had come into his power, the swell of spiritual pressure that had burst forth as he had called his twin spirits to his side. They remembered; Miyako, staring at him - and he saw the dragon behind her eyes, the cold calculation of a cousin intent on stealing the leadership of the clan from beneath him - Miyako had never witnessed his strength, or his skill. She would have been a young adolescent, in training, while Hanzo’s power wiped out political enemies and fulfilled mercenary contracts to prove his strength to the clan. She still should have been aware; he certainly had kept careful record and eye on his cousins and their ability from when he was barely ten years old to this very day.

The expression wiped from her eyes, but still her face remained bored and even contemptuous, and that was  _ not _ acceptable. Hanzo had had enough upsets and uncomfortable thoughts today; he had no patience to continue dancing around his strength and his rightness to lead. He locked eyes with her and ran his right hand down his left arm, dragging his power through his tattoo, his branding that resonated with his spirits, and the scales of the twin dragons began to glow. Miyako’s eyes glittered, and the sickly yellow of her own tattoo began to shine in response, lighting up the left side of her neck, up to just below her ear. Her tattoo - a small matter, much different than his intricate tattoo that branded his entire arm. She had not the power to sustain a brand more than that size, and it was  _ markedly _ smaller than his own. Smaller than Genji’s had been; his power had manifested in a brand on his back almost two or three times the size of her brand.

He curled his lip in disdain and watched as Ami and Rei lifted their heads off of his arm, shimmering their eyes and muzzles into existence, and watched Shigeru-sensei and Chiyoko-sensei’s faces pale, fear and disgust in their eyes, and watched Mayumi-sensei flinch back from the crackling ozone.

“Do not test me,  _ itoko-chan _ ,” he murmured. “You will not want to pit your strength against mine. Your idea has merit. I have said it, and I stand by it. That does not change with this, merely delays it. Will you go to war with your oyabun over precautions?”

_ <<She wants to say yes,>> _ Ami purred in his mind, her bloodlust trickling to life.

Rei bared her teeth, fangs flashing with lightning sparks.  _ <<She will die.>> _

But Miyako knew when she was beat, and she would not risk her life so obviously, not when there were three elders to confirm that she had offered first offense and her death was right. Instead, the light died from her eyes and neck, and she bowed her head. “I merely worry about your health, cousin. We know the powerful ones among us lose their sight, and sometimes their wits. This attack may be a sign that the spirits are trying to tear our beloved oyabun from our clan.”

Hanzo had to admit, she was very smart, and very cunning. Those doubts she peppered in, accusing him of losing sight of what was good for the clan, the subtle threat and the convenient suggestion that any death that visited him would be from the spiritual world, not herself - he pushed the thought away.

“I will contact our respected elders, set up the harai,” Hanzo murmured. “I thank you for this indulgence; it would ease my mind, and ensure a good start on this business venture.”

“But of course,” Mayumi-sensei said, coming to her feet, the seeing rod activated and its scanner thrown out before her. “We only want what’s best for the clan.”

That seemed to be the end of it - Chiyoko-sensei hadn’t even said a single word to him - and the four visitors exited his apartment. He stood there, staring at the door, the tea cups cooling before him, and he knew he would face repercussions. What they would be… he didn’t know. He’d have to give in somewhere, soothe ruffled feathers. He’d probably have to grant Shigeru-sensei an increase of allowance, perhaps upgrade Mayumi-sensei’s personal omnic.

He was  _ tired _ .

Ami and Rei peeled off of his arm.  _ <<You have called us so often, does it tire you so?>> _ Rei said, voice caustic.

With a low sigh, he shook his head and held in check his angry reaction, his desire to throw the cups and teapot. “You could never tire me, and you know it, you vain creature,” he mumbled. He had led the clan for eleven years, and the clan had only prospered under him. There had been no run-ins with any of the authorities, no scandals. He had kept all of his clan well in hand, had paid for their indiscretions and disciplined those that could not restrain themselves, had gone on dates with people they had wanted him to court or advantageous connections, had sacrificed his time and  _ health _ and love life to bolster them. And still they did not accept him.

_ You lick their boots, and they simply grind your tongue flatter against their soles! You are nothing but a  _ coward _ , brother, who cannot see the truth of this poisonous atmosphere even were it to stab you in the back! _

Hanzo shook off Genji’s words and deliberately, slowly, dumped the tea out. He had - perhaps not a plan, but an idea, a strategy, and now he had instead bullied the elders into accepting his decision. Sojiro had always cautioned him, had warned him against making edicts without getting at least two or three elders on his side.  _ You will one day lead the Shimada, but a single person cannot face adversity alone. You must stand together. The Shimada value strength, but restrained and proper strength. Wild and reckless strength is uncontrolled, useless, directionless. You must always conduct yourself well, Hanzo. _

Rinsing out the teapot, he moved slowly and carefully to the bedroom. He would contact the Shimada city priest tomorrow. Perhaps blessing the building would reveal a structural weakness or some imagined flaw he could use to pacify his spirits and stop the creation of the club.

***

He was awake, suddenly and completely. For some reason, he couldn’t see his room, just the training hall at the Hanamura castle, and he remembered his instructor attacking him as a young child while he slept, dealing punishing blows, until he no longer slept deeply.

His bow was hanging across the way, on the wall. His katana was likewise far away, underneath his bow, but his wakizashi was still lying beside him.

He let out a short breath, and then launched himself off of the futon.

A deep, almost basso, roar shook his bones as he snatched the wakizashi in one smooth movement and rolled forward, clearing the short sword from its scabbard. A golden-yellow dragon crushed into him, pinning him against the wall, and fangs, real and sharp and dripping, snaked forward to his neck.

Ami and Rei roared into life, pouring out of his arm, tearing through the sleeve of his jinbei and shredding the side of the shirt so that they could come forth. It was a near thing - as it was, the attacking dragon’s fangs skittered down his collarbone, tearing flesh and spraying Hanzo’s blood onto the floor and sheets.

Rei screamed, her mark on Hanzo’s arm cut by the dragon’s teeth, and her form flickered in and out. Ami remained, solid and strong, and grew until she was the size of an elephant, forcing the dragon back by sheer size.

The yellow dragon flickered, then shrunk down suddenly, and Ami likewise shrunk in a flash, two ferrets streaking across the floor. As the attacking dragon shot forward, it grew, and Hanzo raised his sword and concentrated his powers.

The sword lit up with lightning, and his eyes - no contacts in, nothing to hide the draconic slits they were normally - sparked with power.  _ “Leave _ ,” he thundered, his will and his weight behind the words, and he drove the sword forward. It was an atypical move; both the katana and wakizashi were slicing and slashing weapons, not stabbing, but Hanzo wasn’t attempting to do anything except gain a foothold in the physical presence of the dragon. His blade sunk into the physically manifested chest of the dragon, and Hanzo thrust his power and will  _ down _ the blade and  _ apart _ , tearing apart the physical manifestation before him.

The bedroom door (not exactly in the best shape, considering the recent events) was broken completely open, Issei and Kiyo coming into the room, guns held at the ready. “Oyabun!” Kiyo exclaimed, more as a greeting, but then she saw the blood streaking down his chest. “ _ Oyabun _ !”

Issei turned, and it was luck, it was pure  _ luck _ \- there was someone behind Issei and his turning revealed just the flicker of shadow, and Hanzo was sure he knew Miyako when he saw her but she was so  _ fast _ -

Kiyo let out a sharp gasp, a deep, horrible gurgle, and then Hanzo parried a tanto coming at him. Their swords clashed, and Ami - and a weak Rei, flickering back into existence after the shock of the damage to the brand - growled, jumping forward to pin the person to the wall.

In the glowing blue light, it was  _ not _ Miyako.

“Shimada Takurou,” Hanzo said, hoping he could keep himself from passing out from blood loss. “This is what you do.”

But that was also atypical. Takurou was loyal to Miyako, but he also had a healthy respect for the clan. It made no sense that he was here alone -

He was not here alone.

Hanzo whipped around, but he knew he would be too slow, and he realized belatedly that Issei must have betrayed him, must have known about this, and he would probably live, he knew he was good, but he did not know what shape he would live in, and he already lost one good bodyguard -

“It’s high noon.”

The words were drawled out, English and lazy, and for some reason there was a sunrise inside Hanzo’s room, the rush of heat and sand blowing through his body.

“ _ Draw. _ ”

Two gunshots rang out, impossibly loud, and Ami - jerked free from whatever had held their bodies in slow paralysis - let out a fierce snarl, snapping forward to slam another person into the wall.

Hanzo hadn’t had this many people in his personal sleeping quarters since his brand manifested and the tattoo artist was brought in to make the details permanent and refined.

He was also woozy from the blood loss, weak, and whatever power that had gripped him and held him still - when it left, his legs dropped out from under him and he dropped to his knees, panting harshly.

Why was he like this? Sure, perhaps he had been tired earlier, but with all the adrenaline - this had been the matter of seconds, no more than two or so minutes, there shouldn’t be a crash right now -

Muffled voices around him, and then he could hear Ami and Rei screaming out, lashing of lightning tickling his eyelids as he lost the fight to keep himself conscious.


	6. Weeding out the Evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (mentions that young women/kids are the people being trafficked; implies bad things without outright saying anything.)

_ Fucking lucky, _ Jesse thought to himself, looking at the disaster of an apartment. 

_ -When will you learn there’s no such thing as luck?- _ his demon crooned.  _ -Only the wise and the foolish.- _

_ Which are we, then? _ Jesse sighed, because yeah, he’d finished the meal and then used his demon to help track Shimada back to his apartment. He had stationed himself across the way, on the  _ roof _ , when he saw the attack start.

It had been luck that there had been enough heat and wind to allow him to manipulate the demon’s powers to blow him across the street and through the window, and even then, he’d almost been too late. That lady had a dagger nearly buried in the neck of Shimada. It was luck he could pull off his demon’s soul-eating powers before she had completed the thrust, and he’d reached out to kill the other stained soul in the room.

Well. Relatively stained. All four in front of him (the four that were alive; technically, there were five, but one had been dead when he had come in) had stained soul, and his demon had definitely tried to drag all of their souls to him. Instead, Jesse had finagled the draw, had lightened the reins on the two that weren’t betrayers.

It was hard work to finesse the draw, to summon up the burning halo and not unleash it on everything around him. Absently, in a quick practiced motion, he dragged the smear of blood out from under his nose and then pointed his gun at the last man standing.

“Looks like you’re not going anywhere, partner,” he drawled in English, looking at the fearsome dragon holding the man against the wall. “Still, I’d like an explanation for what’s going on here.”

The man spat on the floor.

“Figures,” Jesse muttered, and then he crouched down to inspect Shimada. Seemed strange for a clan leader to pass out, even if he had lost a lot of blood - Jesse winced, because he didn’t know how to fix that beyond taking the man to the hospital, and if someone had just tried to kill him, a hospital might not be the safest place.

_ -You have a small biotic laser on your belt. It’s got some nanobots left.- _

That’s right. He’d used up most of the laser on a bullet wound, but there was a few nanobots left, surely enough to patch up that nasty tear over Shimada’s collarbone and shoulder. A few seconds fumbling at his belt had the little laser in his hand and pointed at Shimada.

A snarl - one he didn’t actually  _ hear _ , but  _ felt _ \- echoed, and he looked to see that the second dragon was there, teeth bared and crouched, clearly ready to leap at him.

“It’s just some nanobots. Biotic tech. Not a lot left, but it’s all I have on me right now.”

The dragon stared him down for two more slow, torturous heartbeats, and then it inclined its head at him.

He clicked on the nanobot stream, and they immediately poured down - but instead of clustering and glowing around the wound, they sunk into Shimada’s skin.

“Well, shit,” he muttered. Why would they do that? Nanobots searched out life-threatening wounds and prioritized very well; they would know the blood loss was unacceptable. They would focus on closing up the wound, unless Shimada had a deeper wound. It was possible he had an early stage terminal illness - but even then, the nanobots would simply alert their container about it. It certainly wouldn’t be life-threatening currently.

The nanobots didn’t cluster back out.

With a sigh, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright, I hope he don’t mind,” he grumbled, tearing a strip off of bedding and pressing it hard against the wound. It was long, like a knife had been dragged from the base of his neck down to his shoulder, and blood leaked out. “Dammit.”

_ <<What do you need?>> _

Jesse jerked in surprise, nearly let go of the makeshift pressure bandage. “Ah - biotics, if you have them. A medic you trust, if you don’t. Worst comes to worst, my communicator from my belt.”

The dragon before him looked up at the dragon still holding the other person captive. Then the dragon shrunk down from horse size to ferret size - shapeshifting dragons, who the hell knew - and crawled over to Jesse’s belt.

Within moments, his communicator was placed before him.

“Shouldn’t you guys be disappearing if your anchor here is unconscious?” Jesse asked, one eyebrow lifted. Genji could manifest a dragon, even while asleep, but it was a tiny kitten of a thing, and it often simply slept against the back of Genji’s neck. Only his attention had granted it strength, and it’s hard to give something attention when you were asleep.

The dragon gave him an unimpressed look.

“Yeah, yeah - push that red button, will you?”

At least the dragon was obliging enough to do so.

At the push, the communicator let out a soft beep, was quiet for two beats, and then another beep. The pattern repeated four or five times before a longer, harsher beep sounded, and then Winston’s voice came on the line. “Jesse! Did you find out if there was any truth to the information we were sent?”

“I’m a little busy at the moment, you think you can snag one of our support staff? As quickly as we could, ideally Angel, but if she’s asleep anyone?” Jesse said, voice strained.

One good thing about being a super-smart genetically engineered gorilla - not much was needed to be explained for him to get an accurate understanding of the situation. “Of course,” Winston said, voice all business. “One moment.”

Jesse sat there, feeling more blood bubble, and he bit his lip.

Seconds later, Angela’s voice came over the communicator. “Jesse! Is everything alright?”

“I got someone bleeding out, and I had an old biotic laser, with 5 mil of ‘bots left. I used it, hoping to close the wound - ”

“How large is the wound?” Angela interrupted.

Jesse winced. “Best guess is 8 inches, around. A little bit longer than my hand. Stab wound from left collarbone, not at base of the throat but pretty damn close, dragged down across the top of his chest to maybe an inch or two below his shoulder joint.”

“Okay, continue.”

“Right, I used the laser, and the nanobots went  _ into _ the wound.”

“Into?” Angela repeated, frowning. “5 mil should be able to at least superficially close the wound… is it infected? Poisoned? Toxic? Toxins would be more pressing and the nanobots would prioritize that.”

Both dragons snarled horrible, turning to look at the woman that had been about to stab Shimada.

“Jesse? What was that?”

“An ally. Hey, if I had a biotic pack, would it take care of whatever infection or toxin as well as the wound?”

There was some silence, and then Angela sighed. “It would depend on how virulent the poison was, and how much got in. It would also depend on how much blood loss he already suffered. It might be better to use two.”

“Great. Thanks, Angel. Always saving my ass.”

“Call back later, at a better time,” she said. “I have someone who wants to talk to you.”

The communicator clicked off, and Jesse grumbled under his breath, “‘Reeha can just wait her damn self, not my fault I was sent out almost immediately on this mission.” Looking up at the dragons, he sighed. “I’m guessing if you went for my communicator, it’s because you don’t have biotics or a medic handy, huh?”

The dragon bobbed its head like a chicken.

“Great. Well, I have two biotic packs but they are in my hotel room which is halfway across the damn city - ”

_ <<Describe them,>> _ the dragon in front of him said severely.  _ <<I will fetch them.>> _

Jesse hesitated - he didn’t really want a random spiritual creature crawling through his things - but in the end, it was either hope to god that Shimada didn’t die, or let the dragon bring the packs. Sighing, he said, “I got a few bags; find the black one, a duffel, a little smaller than this guy here. Inside is a lot of shit; there should be, in a bottom corner, about four biotic canisters. I need two. I don’t know how you’ll carry them, but that’s where they are.”

The dragon disappeared.

It took almost fifteen minutes, fifteen long minutes where Jesse’s demon purred in the back of his head - happy with their kills - the dragon across the way began to flicker a little, and the person being held prisoner against the wall was clearly in shock. Then the dragon eeled its way into the room, carrying two biotic packs.

Immediately, Jesse pulled the bloodied fabric away - you didn’t want that to heal into the wound, that hurt like  _ shit _ \- and cracked a biotic pack, setting it on the ground next to Shimada’s arm. “Alright. You guys are connected to him,  you let me know how he’s doing. Let me take this guy and tie him up so you can go a little smaller, maybe not strain the guy too much, yeah?”

Reluctantly, the dragon nodded, and Jesse stood up, aware of the blood on his knees, his shoes, his gloves. He walked over and grabbed one wrist, then the other, in his metal hand. “You and I, we’re gonna give him time to heal, and we’re gonna figure out what the hell happened here. Poison. Fucking ninjas.”

The man was either still shocky, or had decided to be docile, and followed Jesse’s pulls and directions as Jesse dragged him out of the small bedroom. The front room was almost comically untouched by what had happened in the bedroom - there was a western-style kitchen table, thankfully, and while there wasn’t any clear robe, there was some weird throw or tapestry and it was quick work to tie the man up to one of the chairs, dragged away from the wall or table so that any movement or attempt to get free wouldn’t be hidden by nearby furniture.

“So you don’t wanna talk. I get that. Believe me, I may understand that more than anyone else,” Jesse said conversationally. “However, I ain’t the person to be scared about. That Shimada in there - yeah, I know who you are, I’m very aware of what ya’ll do - he sure as hell isn’t someone you wanna piss off, and I’d think you’ve done the biggest thing you could possible do to piss off the gang leader. From experience, the head of the gang ain’t taking to nicely to mutiny.”

The man didn’t say anything, and Jesse sighed. He hadn’t wanted to use his own Japanese, mostly because it was so fucking hard to speak it well, but he could. Switching languages, he said again, “If it’s language, no excuse now. Do you wait for your boss or will you be telling me what happens here?”

Those deep brown eyes, almost black, jerked up, and then dropped.

Jesse hummed. “I have no interest. Your boss is very interested. I am better option, and you are smart to know it.”

“You speak terribly,” the man grunted.

“Impatient teacher,” Jesse replied, and he smiled charmingly.

There was a groan from the other room, and Jesse glanced over before looking back at the man.

Blowing out a long breath, the man shook his head.

“Your choice,” Jesse said philosophically, and he stood up to go check on Shimada.

The man was sitting up, in loose pants and nothing else. Without the pressing issue of the wound - which was still open, Jesse could see, but it was noticeable smaller - Jesse could notice the blood streaked down the man’s side and the way his hair stuck to his forehead and neck, the powerful muscles, the intricate tattoo.

Damn, the man made a picture.

Shimada’s honey-brown eyes opened, and while they were still a little confused, they were direct. “My dragons tell me you saved me, Yuki-Onna.”

“Still not a Yuki-Onna. And yeah. Followed you back to your place. Saw when it started going down.” Jesse realized all the bodies were still sprawled out and winced. “I don’t know what the heck was going on, but as much as Genji was mad at you, I don’t think he’d’ve wanted ya dead. Besides, you seem like a nice enough guy. You did call me to come and check shit out. Seems poor repayment if I let you get killed.”

“I wouldn’t have died,” Shimada muttered, and Jesse managed to keep from snorting outright.

Instead, proving that he had learned how to be diplomatic and tactful, Jesse said, “Well, I tied up the other guy there, but I killed the woman at your back and the man at the door. The woman at your back had killed the other girl. You wanna tell me what I stumbled into?”

After a few moments, Shimada shook his head slowly. “I… am not sure. This seems like an exaggerated reaction. Miyako may not have been happy with my stalling of her plans, but she would have most likely gotten what she wanted in the end - a nightclub, even if it wasn’t in that direct place.”

“She’s been bucking for your spot for a while?”

“I would not have said so,” Shimada said with a quiet groan as he stood up, his dragons now labrador size, pressed against his legs, their ears pricked forward. “Did she want to be oyabun? Of course. Was she in a position to do so? No. Not enough elders support her. Not enough profits from her branch to convince them she was a better choice.”

Almost at the same time, Shimada and Jesse looked at each other, Jesse with a wince, Shimada with a bared snarl. “Unless she was moving into trafficking,” they said at the same time.

***

“This is the warehouse?”

Shimada nodded. They were standing on the corner, early in the morning, the early morning workers starting to go to their jobs. They were starting to garner looks, which was not a good thing, but they were trying to figure out how to approach the warehouse - which was clearly under guard.

“I thought this branch of the family was always… stretched so thin. Now I know why. If they were working with Talon, doing this - they would need the influx of money. That would explain the lost pieces of art, the disappearance of familiar faces, the request for more guns and omnic soldiers.”

Jesse glanced around before leaning in close. “We’re getting too much attention. We need to blend in.”

Shimada huffed, but tugged him further down the street, to an early food cart that had some white rice and natto, some soups, and some onigirazu. “Pick something. Hook your arm in mine,” Shimada grunted in English, and then he smiled charmingly at the man behind the cart, voice suddenly getting much lighter and smoother, sweeter. The sight was… disarming. Jesse wasn’t gonna lie, he was more than a little turned on. They didn’t look like a typical couple, what with Jesse in his black shirt and combat pants and boots (with spurs; he’d gotten a raised eyebrow from Shimada but on the scale of drama that had happened that night, spurs were so low on the scale as to be completely ignored), and Shimada in traditional Japanese dress with combat boots that were spiked at the toes, a viola case slung along his back. An odd picture, but… not that odd. Shimada fit against his side when Jesse crowded in, and was very touchy-feely when pretending. He could see Shimada’s face, the smile, and he could remember how Genji would smile - surprised and laughing, wide and bright. In every picture he had seen of Shimada Hanzo - hell, in every story Genji told Jesse - the man didn’t smile, scowled and glowered. This other side, even if it was a facade, it was stunning, amazing.

He needed to get his head in the game.

Shimada finished paying for the onigirazu and cup of soup, and handed over the soup to Jesse while he snacked on the wrapped seaweed sandwich. They walked slowly down the road again, when Shimada murmured, “Shift change will probably happen in the next thirty minutes, if they are still following family rules. If I bring the authorities in, the Shimada clan’s honor and reputation will be hit. We don’t know how many they have there. I don’t know if they’ve been pulling funds to hire mercenaries, or if they’re using the numbers I gave them. This is ill-advised.”

At that, Jesse couldn’t help laugh. When Shimada turned his head, annoyed and brows narrowed, Jesse kept chuckling. “Darlin’, you were the one that said we gotta get to that warehouse now. You said if you gave them a chance they’d move everything.”

“I  _ know _ ,” Shimada growled under his breath. “I  _ know _ . I was right. That doesn’t change the fact that this is a bad idea.”

“Well, Genji did say you wouldn’t make a move without planning every position of your toes, so,” Jesse huffed, smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

Offended and upset, Shimada turned around, mouth open - and then his arm came up behind Jesse’s head, pulling him down and crushing their lips together.

Contrary to popular opinion, Jesse wasn’t stupid - he knew why Shimada would do that out of the blue. That didn’t change that he willingly went down, loved to taste those soft lips he’d been staring at all through their first meeting, their short planning period before they’d traveled here. It didn’t change the fact that Jesse was kissing a handsome man, and he wasn’t going to put forward a bad kiss or impression.

After a good amount of time, Shimada pulled back, cautious and slow, and he looked a little dazed and surprised. Jesse took that as a compliment, and kept his face close to Shimada’s ear as he whispered, “You wanna try and sneak down from the roof? I think I can see some ways to bully our way in, but we don’t want to go anywhere near their standard patrol route.”

Shimada blinked again, and then pink dusted his cheeks, crinkled the corner of his eyes. He coughed a little and stepped back, glancing around. It certainly looked like he was trying to be strategic, and doing a quick canvas of the area, but Jesse was sure it was more because Shimada was embarrassed and self-conscious than anything.

“I can easily climb the outside of the building, perhaps open a door for you,” Shimada murmured.

Jesse paused, uncertain. “You sure about that, Shimada? Alone in there?”

“You just kissed me, you may as well call me by my name,” Shimada muttered -  _ Hanzo _ muttered. It surprised Jesse, enough that he missed the first half of what Shim - Hanzo was saying.

“ - we’ll see what happens. They shouldn’t be expecting us, in any case. Moving this fast, they can’t have found out about Miyako’s death, so they would think everything’s moving slowly. Linger here without being too obvious.”

“Yeah - ” Jesse began, when suddenly he realized Shimada -  _ Hanzo _ \- was leaving.

Well. Shit.

Leaning back against the nearby wall - this was a warehouse district, a lot of factories and places where people came to work, and people were walking past him. It was easy enough to pull out his little personal compnet, fiddle around with it and look side to side as if he was trying to orient himself. It helped if he leaned forward and said, at odd moments, “Hey, you speak any English? English?” Though Hanamura had a thriving and strong tourist industry, this was the working-peoples district. The people here would have, perhaps, a few words in English, put probably spoke more Chinese or Arabic than English. English was still very much localized to the Americas and Europe. It would aid in selling his disguise that he was lost after a night out with a local boy.

He heard a small scuffle, and he could feel his demon crooning in the back of his mind, proud and content and vicious. When he turned around, a small side access door was open by just the slightest crack.

Scratching the back of his neck, he wandered away, until he could step in the alley between the two warehouses and into the side access door.

Shimada -  _ Hanzo _ \- was standing there, eyes sweeping back and forth, and when Jesse stepped in Hanzo indicated a basement doorway. “I do not know what your power is,” Hanzo murmured under his breath.

Jesse hesitated. He’d already drawn forth two souls today. He could always draw as many as he could see before him - his demon would  _ love _ that - but letting the demon play that much was… dangerous. It would become a challenge to control that soul-stealing power, to keep those from meeting his eyes from dropping down, soulless and dead. “They’d need to be all lined up,” he said slowly. “All in front a’ me. We couldn’t - I can’t without them in front a’ me. Can’t see through walls.”

With a quick nod, Hanzo reached up to his gi, pulled down and off his left sleeve, let it hang against his side as he called forth Ami and Rei. “Hunt,” he whispered in Japanese, and then when the dragon spirits disappeared, he jerked his chin and led Jesse over to a stack of crates. Like a fucking monkey, he was suddenly up the staggering tower and perched on the top.

Jesse looked up at him and shook his head. Damn Shimadas. Genji could do that too, and it never ceased to amaze Jesse.

Hanzo frowned down at him.

Jesse waved a hand in front of him, from top to bottom, and then pointed at the crates - a ‘do you think  _ I  _ can do  _ that _ ’ type of gesture.

Hanzo’s frown got deeper.

There was noise in the distance, and Jesse growled under his breath. He would have to get out of sight, and up high was always a good bet; humans didn’t often look up high for danger. Still, there was no way he could scale that silently. Instead, he shifted around the crates, hunkered down, tugged at his demon’s power to pull the gaze to the forefront just in the worst case scenario that the person  _ did _ notice him squatted on the ground.

A small statured man walked past, a huge gun hung off of his neck. Silent and still, Hanzo and Jesse watched the man walk away.

When the man turned the corner, Hanzo quickly climbed down, landing almost silently next to Jesse, and he growled under his breath, “You were  _ Blackwatch _ . How did you ever do any stealth operations?”

“With good planning and intel,” Jesse joked, elbowing Hanzo. “I get that you’re stressed, Hanzo, but we’ll get it done.”

Hanzo startled at his name, but before he could respond to anything, the two dragons came streaking back. Jesse couldn’t actually see them really well - his demon allowed him enough power to see the barest outline, but they were clearly hiding and scouting.

“Alright. They have twenty humans and six omnics. About as many guards downstairs, though equal mix of human and omnic. Five are walking the building. Two are posted outside,” Hanzo murmured. “No authorities involved. We need to line up as many of the guards as we can.”

“Where will you take the humans and omnics?” Jesse asked. “Overwatch can’t get here quickly. You’ll have to have a place to put them where they will be treated well. Returned to their families. Given options if they were running from families or shit.”

Hanzo sat silent, thinking for a long moment, and then he slowly nodded. “It will be - a bit harder. But for our council meeting, I have - I’ll send Ami. She likes her. Rei is a bit more - ”

“You named ancient dragon spirits after Sailor Moon characters?”

Hanzo went bright red in the face, and the two dragons burst into full color, tongues lolling out in canine-like laughter. “How - ” Hanzo began, and then he clenched his teeth and hissed, “ _ Genji _ .” Then he shook his head, hard and snapped out, “It doesn’t matter. Rei is much more fierce in battle. Ami and Rei both are better for an assault like this, but we need Ami to alert Reiko.”

Nodding, Jesse glanced around. “I’ll head down. The guards should be clustered. I don’t have a lot of ammo, so I’ll need to concentrate in one area, and you have your swords as well as your bow.”

“I’ll give you three minutes to get into position, and then I will draw them out,” Hanzo murmured.

Jesse nodded, and then snuck down into the basement, watching the stairs and the corners. He could see a lot of machinery - this had probably once been a place that created farm machinery, with the chains, tires, chassis, and the like scattered around. There was some hastily erected cages - well, Jesse said hastily erected, but though the cages could probably be knocked over with a concerted effort, they had clearly been in place a while, long enough to wear scratches on the floor beneath the chain-link doors that opened out of the cages.

The humans were divided up - most women, young, with a few children of indiscriminate gender. Each cage had a few guards in front of them, and the rest were sitting in a corner, just relaxing. Come to think of it, it looked like they had one of the women at their feet, and Jesse felt his blood boil. He almost -  _ almost _ \- activated his draw right there, ready to pull forth their souls without even giving them the mercy of a killshot along with the draw.

But they had a plan. Hastily put together, but a plan. He had to follow it. Hanzo was counting on him.

He carefully descended the stairs - there were people posted at the bottom, but they were bored, they’d probably held onto these people for a long while and were tired, and expecting no issues. He wasn’t going to go all the way down the stairs of course - he stopped, crawled under the simple bar and moved as silently as he could out on top of a combine’s roof. High enough to still see everyone, close enough that he wouldn’t miss.

_ -This is a good hunt,- _ his demon growled, and there was almost a physical ache of hunger in the pit of Jesse’s stomach.  _ -This was a good decision. I like this task.- _

_ We gotta wait, _ Jesse thought, forcing his thoughts to calm, to still, to focus.  _ One more minute _ .

_ -Your bullets will strike true. Your justice will be served. We will do this.- _

_ We kill those in the corner first. _

A hum of amusement, approval, and vicious satisfaction.  _ -Yes.- _

That one minute was the slowest one he’d ever watched tick by.


	7. Mission Complete

Hanzo got outside very quickly, set himself up at the back. He knew and trusted Reiko, and Ami would bring her as quickly as possible. Most people trafficked were often refugees or the homeless; Reiko would be able to protect them, get them to where they needed to be. Treat them well, and maybe they would become assets to the Shimada clan.

An idea for another day. Right now, he needed to make a big enough distraction without jeopardizing civilians or bystanders.

The fastest, and quickest thing, would be a fire.

It’d have to go up fast, and far enough away from the basement exit that McCree could get everyone out without any difficulty.

Well. Jesse. He had put his tongue down the other man’s throat, and it was the most intimate contact he’d had with another human being in four years. There was a reason he had told McCree - Jesse - to call him by a familiar title.

Not that Jesse had told Hanzo it was allowed to be familiar with him, but to Hanzo’s knowledge, Westerners didn’t care about that level of familiarity anyway.

Jesse needed to get everyone out safely. The fire couldn’t harm him, or the people they were rescuing.

“Rei.”

His dragon appeared, the size of a lion, quivering and vibrating and crackling with energy.

“I need you to find some grease or oil. Something that burns fast. The fire can’t be inside; it will be uncontrolled inside. We will set fire to the back of the building, here. Then, you will go and tell Jesse, and lead them out safely. I will pick off whoever comes out.”

_ <<I don’t like you alone here.>> _

“You will come back when you’re done,” Hanzo murmured. “Don’t worry.”

Rei looked at him for a long moment and then nodded, disappearing. Hanzo had one more minute, and then Jesse would act.

Calm. Focus. He had to protect people, and that was it.

Rei came back with some engine grease, smearing it over the outside corner of the wall. Then Rei disappeared, ghosting away, and Hanzo counted down the seconds.

_ 3. _

_ 2. _

_ 1. _

It was ironic, Hanzo thought as he nocked an arrow, called forth the power of his dragons through his arm and into the tip of the arrow, lightning crackling from the tip. He’d spent so much of his life, his time, of these last eleven years, hiding his eyes through contacts, keeping his teeth tucked away, keeping his dragons from interacting with any of his bloodline, his strength and the small patterns of scales on his thighs, back, and ears hidden through skin shields and the like. And now, he was summoning electricity.

The elders, if they knew, would not rest until he died. So he had to keep his involvement in this minimal. Hidden.

Who really believed a human could call down lightning from the sky? Besides electric elementals, of course, but Hanzo wasn’t counting them. He was just a spirit medium, losing his eyesight and communing with the little yokai of the world.

“ _ Release, _ ” he hissed out, and shot the arrow.

The lightning streaked through the air, burning up the arrow and hitting the grease Rei had set up for Hanzo, and a whole line down the corner of the building went aflame.

Almost immediately, the warning systems went online; there were indoor fire suppression measures, but not outdoor ones, and so all the building could do was let the inhabitants know that there was a problem outside. When the door opened and people came boiling out, Hanzo waited until he was sure no more would come running out to help fight the fire, and then he pulled out his katana and wakizashi.

Arrows would be too distinctive; Hanzo had made them his trademark. All the clans used knives and guns on the streets; it would be more anonymous.

Making sure the bow was safe, and his gi was secured, he lifted the swords up and launched himself forward.

His draconic traits had always seemed small, unnoticeable, and ultimately useless. Strange eyes, strength beyond what most humans had, sight and smell more enhanced (which was why he hadn’t lost his sight fully yet) and ultimately made his life harder with how sensitive his senses were, and odd indentations and raises on his skin that had clearly discomfited more than one partner in the past.

Now, using them fully in battle, unleashing the wildness within him…

He tore through the people before him like wet tissue paper.

His sword made quick work of those working on the fire, and what his sword didn’t take care of, his strength crushed. Within minutes, he had wiped out everyone behind the building and was quickly scaling it, knowing that other well-meaning citizens would be calling the fire in; he could already see movement from other buildings. Once on top of the building, he sprinted across and shimmed down the front of the building, almost at the exact same time as Jesse came out the front with all the stolen people. It was impossible for Hanzo to join them; he was covered in blood, his adrenaline was up, and he knew he hadn’t put his contacts in before leaving his apartment, so his eyes were too reptilian, too strange. Instead, he waited for Rei to come to him, and he could sense her energy, the fight in her.

“Helped out Jesse, did you?”

_ <<So familiar,>> _ Rei teased, but there was that edge of violence, that vibration that showed she was still keyed up. He’d have to let them hunt soon, release that energy.  _ <<What do you intend to do? Mate with him? Keep him?>> _

Hanzo felt his cheeks color again. He didn’t know, he didn’t know what he wanted, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t considering doing more with Jesse than what they’d already done. If Jesse was amenable. He seemed so, but Hanzo was bad at reading people.

A problem for another time, another day. Instead, he cleared his throat and tilted his head towards Jesse. “Would you wait with him? I cannot be seen like this - and I cannot be seen with this fiasco. The clan would not forgive this, or my work with an Overwatch agent. I will return to my room and call for new bodyguards, pretend I was there all this time. Stay with Jesse, and aid him. Ami should be here soon.”

Rei purred, her neck stretching, and then disappeared to go to Jesse’s side. He turned to leave, but not before Jesse turned, and their eyes met.

There was that same level of fierceness, of viciousness, in his eyes as Hanzo felt coursing through his veins. Jesse held his gaze for one heartbeat, another heartbeat, and then he inclined his head, bowing and tipping an imaginary hat.

Hanzo inclined his head as well, and left as quickly as he could.

***

It wasn’t until the next day that Rei and Ami returned - trailing Reiko. She walked into his apartment and stopped, hand on her hips. “How many assassination attempts has this been, Zo-kun?”

“About as many as you faced yourself, Ko-kun,” Hanzo replied, and let his tiredness, his weariness, show on his face, in his motions.

She considered him, sitting on the couch in one of his best suits, and then whistled a little. “It was close?” she asked.

“Very. Miyako was behind this one, and now I suspect that the way she gained so much power was by coating her dragon’s teeth in poison. It was… much closer than I would like to admit. Which is why I need your help bringing that branch of the family in line.”

Reiko’s eyebrows jumped up to her forehead. “Excuse me? Who are you and what have you done with my uptight, controlling, deliberative itoko?”

“I need a protege, should something happen to me. I knew there were elements of the family that had flirted with working with Talon, but I had no idea that my orders were so  _ blatantly  _ being disregarded by an entire branch of the family. I would like someone on my side when I stand before the elders. And… I want to step back. I’m tired. I gave this family eleven years, eleven years of no complaints, no wavering, doing my duty by the clan and ensuring absolute success, but when I expressed a desire to wait? Not even that a project could not go forward, but that I wished to cleanse a place? A place that turned out to be a front for human traffickers? Not one of the elders backed me up until I summoned my spirits wordlessly. Now they fear me.”

Reiko looked at him, really took a step back and eyed him. He had called the council to his home, to the bodies of his bodyguards, of Miyako, of Takurou’s bound and restrained body. He had informed them, unequivocally, that if he found out any of them support Talon in any way, if any of them dabbled in human trafficking in any manner, even to the point of simply allowing trucks to pass through their districts unencumbered, he would wipe out their entire family, from the grandparents to the teenagers, and take in the children to be raised by him, personally.

They had gone away scared, and angry. That was never a good combination, and he needed someone the council liked - and Reiko, while shrewd and abrasive, had no powers that could scare the council, looked sweet and gentle. She would be a good proxy, and give him the space to step back.

Reiko bowed. “I will do my best to make you proud,  _ itoko _ .”

With a soft smile, Hanzo watched her leave. With his dragons present - not visible, but present, eager and so energized from how much he had called on them and used them - he could sense the sand, the heat, and the desert that followed Jesse McCree around.

“Come in,” he called out.

After a few minutes, Jesse walked in, that charming grin in place. “How’d you see me? I thought I was doing pretty good.”

“My dragons noticed you,” Hanzo explained, and then he looked at McCree, really  _ looked _ . He looked - not bad, but not like he was packed up and leaving, either. Comfortable. Relaxed. A loose brown jacket, a soft shirt underneath. Still no hat, but that would be noticeable, recognizable. Relaxed jeans, hair loose instead of slicked back. “You’ve come, because…?”

Jesse tilted his head and smiled softly. “Rei told me you got familiar with me, calling me by my first name.”

Hanzo looked down, where Rei was shimmering into existence next to him, the size of a large dog, grinning like a dog as well. “Traitor,” he muttered in Japanese.

“You know, I may not speak good, but I understand good,” Jesse said in bad, but passable, Japanese.

Hanzo stared at him, affronted and more than a little admiring. “You sneaky bastard,” he said.

Jesse spread his hands. “Blackwatch. Covert ops.”

Shaking his head, Hanzo finally let his lips curve up into a smile. “You don’t look packed and ready to leave, now that you have gotten rid of the traffickers I asked of you.?

“I was hoping I could, perhaps, prevail upon you to guide me around this wonderful city a while. I don’t have to be back, and I already called in, checked in. There’s nothing that needs me immediately. I can stick around two or three more days.”

Hanzo hesitated. “You want to? You saw me - ” He cut himself off, not sure how to verbalize what he wanted to say. Jesse saw him covered in blood. Saw his eyes, probably even his ears tipped. Saw his teeth bared. He saw him at his weakest point he’d been at in a very long while.

Tentatively, almost gingerly, Jesse walked up to the couch, went down to his knees in front of Hanzo, and leaned in. “No one here, no one watching,” he murmured. “You still want to kiss me?”

Hanzo didn’t answer; instead, he leaned forward, gently cupping Jesse’s face, and pressed a kiss onto Jesse’s lips.

It was gentle, controlled, and it was everything Hanzo tried to be. Then Jesse leaned in and opened his mouth, and that wildness, that power and heat swept through Hanzo’s body and moments later he realized he had pretty much gone down to the floor, pushing Jesse back into the small table, hands clenched against Jesse’s shoulders as he climbed into Jesse’s lap.

He broke apart, pulled away, panting, and Jesse looked lazily pleased, smug and proud. “Goddamn, I didn’t get to tell you yesterday, but you are a  _ damn _ good kisser, Hanzo, and I’m glad you took interest in me, even if it was because you thought I was some Yuki-Onna.”

Hanzo snorted, feeling more in control as he gained that little bit of distance, that emotional calmness that kept him a good leader of the Shimada clan. “You can do something, stealing souls and lives. That is what a Yuki-Onna does.”

“Mmm,” Jesse murmured, standing up. “Well, the interesting thing is that I have all my luggage packed, actually.”

Something strange jerked deep in Hanzo’s chest, and he stood up as well, not quite sure what Jesse was saying. “I’m sorry?” he said.

“I was hoping I could carry it in. I left it in the hall,” Jesse said, grin crooked.

Relief coursed through his body, and Hanzo breathed out slowly. “Go ahead, of course. It would be my pleasure.”

Jesse lifted Hanzo’s hand to his mouth, brushing his lips over the gloved knuckles. “I have something to speak to you about, a business proposition. I know your clan is important, and that you take pride in it. I don’t want you to leave it. But I’m going to go back to Overwatch. Winston and I talked, and we’d love it if you could keep us informed of Talon’s movements. I’m sure you’re far more aware of them in this area of the world than we are.”

For a long moment, Hanzo wondered. The Shimada-gumi had never cooperated with Overwatch. Blackwatch, yes, and when it benefited them. Overwatch?

But this was Jesse. Jesse, who had come halfway across the world to honor an agreement that had been made ages ago. Whether or not they had taken good care of his brother, Jesse had done his best by Hanzo.

“Of course,” Hanzo said softly. “My partner works with Overwatch, after all. I would want to keep him safe.”

Jesse stepped out, dragged in three bags, and closed the door behind him. “Your partner, huh?” he asked, setting one bag by the door and walking behind the couch, towards the bedroom.

“Is the word the wrong choice?” Hanzo asked, a little stiffly.

Jesse set the bags down against the back of the couch and then leaned down, cradling Hanzo’s chin and tilting Hanzo’s mouth up and pressing a kind, almost  _ loving _ kiss on Hanzo’s lips. “It’s the perfect choice, darling.”


	8. Epilogue

“You’re sure this is going to be a good meeting, not a bad meeting?” Jesse murmured, legs crossed. “You left this place in an angry place, and I don’t think your brother knows about the accident that left you part omnic. He’s gonna straight-up murder me.”

Genji huffed, his green and black dragon crooning around his ankles. “Hanzo would not notice, I feel. He sent me away because he didn’t want to think about me.”

“I told you, the first thing he said to me was that Blackwatch abandoned you. His first thought was of you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s standing out in the field, waiting to see you. You don’t think I should have told him? I’ve been visiting a while. He’ll know I was keeping this away from him.”

With a click of his tongue, Genji leaned back, running his fingers through his spiked hair. “I’m already suspicious of his worry. The clan  _ hated _ me. They hated my dragon. They made sure I knew, ever turn, how much I was a disappointment and a letdown.”

Jesse bumped his shoulder against Genji’s chassis as Lena touched the Orca down. “You’ll be fine. You’ll see. Ami and Rei can’t wait, either.”

Shaking his head, Genji stood up, picking up his black and green jacket and putting it on, leaving it unzipped. “I think this won’t be a bad meeting, but I don’t know if Hanzo will work with us on that one.”

Jesse held his tongue as the doors opened up. Genji took a step forward to the exit and stopped dead.

“He’s waiting… in the field,” Genji said, voice soft.

Stepping up behind him, Jesse slung an arm around Genji’s shoulder and leaned down. “He asks about you. Ever since I told him that you rejoined Overwatch. He nearly  _ flew _ to Gibraltar twice in the past three months. He wants to see you.”

Genji was clearly shocked, surprised, and it gave Hanzo the time to walk up to the ramp. Jesse could see the emotion trembling in Hanzo’s eyes, the absolute worry and terror and love there, but he wasn’t sure Genji could see it.

“Your hair is still shit,” Hanzo said, and his voice was so hoarse, so rough, Jesse winces in sympathy.

Genji let out a choked laugh, and Jesse could tell there were tears in Genji’s eyes. “You’re one to talk, brother. What did you do to your  _ hair _ ?”

They stood there, staring at each other, until Ami, Rei, and Genji’s Sakura ran past their masters, slamming into each other and rolling on the floor, wrestling. Then Genji launched himself forward, knocking Hanzo over, and Jesse stood there.

He knew he’d be taken to task for not telling Hanzo about what happened to Genji, about not telling Genji (or, rather, not being good enough to convince Genji to believe him) about Hanzo’s changes. But for right now, he was glad the two of them were together again.

Even if three dragons would only be infinitely more trouble than the two he was (still) trying to get used to.


End file.
